The Queen's Shadow (The Origin's

Daughter Book 3) Alexandra St. Pierre

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 Copyright © 2024 by Alexandra St Pierre
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Illustrations copyright © 2024 by Alexandra St Pierre

Map: Moth Hawke
Editor: Veerie Edits (@vees.reads)
Sensitivity Reader: Lori-Ann Drecketts
Format/Layout: Brady Moller

ISBN Physical Paperback: 979-8-8738568-1-7

ISBN Physical Hardcover: 978-1-7390780-5-8
IS
 Contents

Trigger Warnings
Playlist

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Chapter 171
Chapter 172
Chapter 173
Chapter 174
Loving this Series?
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Love Dark Romance?
Deathtrap
On-Page:

Torture scenes including whippings, removal of fingernails, stabbing, flaying, and dismemberment
Murder
Gun violence
Extreme violence
Non-consensual touching/kissing
Themes of slavery

Off Page/Implied:

Rape
Implied Sexual Assault and Abuse (in some instances it is implied that the victim is underage)
To all of my readers who have shipped Kashon from day one, this one is for you.
 1. Cosmic Lottery - Evergreen (Chapter 14)
2. I Never Told You What I Do For a Living - My Chemical Romance (Rycon doing Rycon things)
3. Suffering - Melrose Avenue (Chapter 31)
4. Like a Villain - Bad Omens (Chapter 37)
5. No More - Dirtwire, Moontricks (Rycon doing Rycon things)
6. Prodigal Daughter - Lights (Raven)
7. Kingdom of Cards - Bad Omens (Rycon)
8. Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace (Chapter 47)
9. Lilith (feat. SUGA of BTS) - Halsey, SUGA (Chapter 66)
10. cult leader - KiNG MALA (Raven)
11. Dark Matter - Rivals (Chapter 77)
12. Car’s Outside - James Arthur (Chapter 93)
13. Broken - The Devil Wears Prada (Chapter 101)
14. Gasoline - Halsey (Chapter 108)
15. Fall For Me - Sleep Token (Chapter 114)
16. Somewhere Over the Rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo’ole (Chapter 121)
17. Free Animal - Foreign Air (Chapter 125)
18. Lose Control - Teddy Swims (Chapter 133)
19. Every Colour - Luca Fogale (Chapter 135)
20. Sugar - Sleep Token (Chapter 148)
21. I Found - Amber Run (Chapter 149)
22. Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls (Chapter 164)
23. you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish (Chapter 165)
24. Vor í Vaglaskógi - KALEO (Chapter 169)
25. Beige - Yoke Lore (Chapter 172)
 Amon

I
was no stranger to torture. Having spent over two hundred years serving Ash Nevra, I’ve witnessed, experienced, and
conducted unspeakably horrible and painful things in her name. I’ve bled, violated, and beaten victims in an effort to keep
up appearances. However, I was not always successful in my efforts to please the Queen. In those instances, it was I who
had played the part of the victim.
Often, it was my bones that were broken or my skin that was flayed. I’ve had fingernails and teeth removed only to have
them magickally mended and torn out again. I’ve been raped and stabbed and cut down. If you can imagine it, I have lived it.
As I said, I am no stranger to torture.
Looking into Ash Nevra’s crimson eyes as she stood before me, I knew I would once again be facing all these things and
more… but none of that scared me anymore.
It would all pale in comparison to the pain of having to witness the look on Raven’s face as Ash Nevra wrapped the
slavery bond around me.
She had taken me away. Separated me from my mate, whom I had finally managed to claim as mine after nearly a century of
waiting.
Daemons were born as only one half of a whole. When a daemon finds their other half, the bond is primal and absolute.
Being taken away from Raven, so soon after having officially mated with her, was the most unbearable pain I have ever
experienced.
It felt as if the fabric of my soul had been torn in two, and I was leaking the very substance that allowed me to exist all over
the cold stone floor. It was taking every single ounce of strength I had not to let Ash Nevra see the irrevocable and all-
consuming agony I was experiencing, painted on my face.
She stood before me in her silk dress, legs spread wide enough that the slit up the side pushed all the way up to her hip.
 The underground room she had magicked me away to was nondescript, dark and windowless. The walls were damp and
reflected the burn of the wall sconces－ the only source of light in the otherwise miserable space.
“My Shadow,” she purred, stroking her crimson tipped fingers down the side of my face. “Mine at last.”

ASH NEVRA RAN HER NAILS LIGHTLY DOWN MY CHEEK, RIGHT OVER THE TRACE THAT RAVEN HAD PLACED THAT DAY IN THE ABBEY
house. Due to the triquetra that Kieran placed around my neck the moment we had landed in this disgusting dungeon, Raven’s
trace was now rendered useless. Ash Nevra had not allowed me to see anything outside of the stone walls of this chamber. I
had no idea where we were, or whose court we were in.
She had not needed to tie me to the cold steel chair that I sat in, she had only needed to order it.
The slavery bond was not like anything I had experienced before. It coiled around me like wire on an electric fence. One
move in the wrong direction, and it would eviscerate me. There was no room to disobey, no room to resist. If she asked me to
sit, any thought or move to do anything else, I had quickly learned, was unbearable. The pain was so deep and so crippling that
I knew if I tried to push through, I very well might lose consciousness. This was not something I could afford to have happen. I
needed to think, to plan, and figure out how to get out of this.
The first step was learning the parameters of this bond. I knew from being around her slaves for so long, that I would at
least still be able to speak. The bond could not control speech, only actions. I supposed there was really no need for the bond
to control a slave’s speech. Self-censorship tended to be a by-product of the fear and control she was able to instill into those
who had no other choice but to stab themselves to death if she told them to.
“What do you have planned?” I asked dryly. I forced my voice to stay even, despite the fact that every inch of me was on
fire. The bond snapped and crackled around me, violently corralling my body into complete and utter obedience. It wanted me
to be still, so I would be still.
“That is for me to know, and for you to wonder, my Dark Prince.” She cooed. She stepped forward on her stilettoed feet,
before straddling my lap. The slit of her liquid silk dress hiked further up her thigh. She put a hand on each of my shoulders as
she slowly lowered herself down to sit on top of me, her lips inches from mine. I could not move, and I held my breath. The
revulsion I felt at her touch was palpable. Gently, almost reverently, she fingered the mating stone that hung around my neck.
“If your mate surrenders and swears allegiance to me, maybe I will allow you to return to her.” She sighed. “This is such
ugly business.”
Let me go? I almost laughed at the lie. It was a lie I had told my own victims countless times, when it had suited me.
It was a fairytale. A tactic.
“Don’t insult me. You and I both know you will never willingly let me go.”
Without warning, she ripped the mating stone from my neck, her demeanor changing from sultry and coy, to deadly and
violent. I physically felt the loss of the emerald pendant as she tore it away. It was the last piece of Raven I had. Now, I was
truly alone.
Ash Nevra grabbed my face, and ground herself into my lap before running her tongue firmly and possessively across my
mouth.
Pain seared down the back of my neck as I reflexively tried to pull away.
The slavery bond forced me to remain still, and my skin erupted in gooseflesh as my body struggled to reconcile the
proximity of the monster that straddled my lap and my inability to push her off me.
“You’re right, my little Shadow.” She hissed, nearly speaking directly into my mouth. “I will never let you go.”
 Raven

T
he widowmaker’s head hung from a single bloody sinew. Rycon snarled, his voice reverberating off the damp stone walls
of the cell. We had been in the dungeons of The Court of Pride for several hours trying to get it to tell us what it knew.
“Stop fucking decapitating it Kitten. It can’t talk with its throat slit.” Rycon grabbed the creature’s greasy hair and
pulled its head up. He lined its throat back up to its shoulders, allowing the monster to regenerate more easily.
I squeezed the handles of my blades so hard I could feel my knuckles pop. There was a deep, hateful, blaze of energy that
had ignited in my chest. Rage flooded every inch of my body and coated my very bones. I could barely breathe past the burning
fire in my lungs. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to kill, to destroy, to burn.
I had felt like this once before, and it had nearly cost me my life. The only reason it hadn’t was because Amon had saved
me. This painful thought scored through my mind, slicing into the already gaping wound that was his absence. He wasn’t here to
save me now. I knew if I let go, I would take everyone with me, and I couldn’t allow that. I had to keep it together. I had to get
them back. I had to get my mate back.
I couldn’t get him back if I tore the entire planet to shreds. I crushed my eyes closed and took a deep breath in through my
nose, and out through my mouth while counting to ten.
“That’s it, Kitten. Keep it together, you need to stay in control.” Rycon smirked at me once I had successfully pushed back
the billowing clouds of midnight that kept threatening to overtake my vision. “It hurts more if you go slow anyways.” He said,
referring to the torture we were currently inflicting on the widowmaker.
His words helped calm me, as he had known they would. Rycon knew what I needed because it was what he needed too.
Our bond was wide open, and our anger bled together. We were fueling each other, while simultaneously keeping one another
from losing it entirely.
“Pass me a blade.” His tone was all business as he held out a hand, his blunt nails coated in chipped black polish. I took
another deep breath before handing him one of the twin blades Amon had gifted me before Ash Nevra stole him away. I
watched, still forcing myself to breathe in a slow and controlled manner as the shifter lay the edge of the knife against one of
the widowmaker’s forearms.
There was no risk of it injuring us. I had severed its long deadly fingers almost the moment we had entered the cell. They
still danced and jerked across the ground, like headless cockroaches.
The fiend flinched and tried to pull away from Rycon, but my shadows held it in place. It tried to scream; however, its
vocal cords must not have healed yet, so all that came out was a thick garbling sound.
Black, inky blood bubbled through its teeth and slid down its child-like face. Rycon laid the blade almost flat against the
thing’s arm and looked up at me, his golden cat eyes flashing in the dirty light of the cell.
“Like this,” he instructed me, before sliding the sharp edge of the knife under the monster’s skin and pulling a long, white
strip of flesh away from its arm as if he were merely peeling an apple. The monster’s voice box sprang back to life just in time
for Rycon to toss the inky strip onto the ground with a grotesque, wet, slap.
I watched the monster twist and struggle against my shadows, a cold sickening pleasure coiling around my heart at the sight
of the widowmaker’s agony. It screamed and screamed, and I felt myself smile.
Rycon’s own lips curled at the look on my face before he stood back, gesturing to the widowmaker’s prone form. “Now
you try,” he said.
I glanced at him, hesitating. He nodded his head once in encouragement. “You got this, don’t let yourself lose control. Flay
a piece and ask it where that bitch is keeping them.”
If I hadn’t been so filled with rage, I might have wondered how I had come to this point. How had I come to find myself
standing in this disgusting dungeon, being taught how to properly torture someone for information? It wasn’t that long ago that
my biggest problem was my chronic tendency to get into fights at school. Now, somehow the fate of two worlds seemed to
depend on me finding a way to stop a daemon hell queen. Apparently at the cost of the moral degradation of my own soul.
What was worse, was the fact that I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the fate of any world if Amon wasn’t in it. This fucking
spider was going to tell me where he was, or I would throw it into the mouth of Mount Frira and watch it melt.
I stepped forward, laying my blade against its other arm. It jerked away from me, before realizing that only moved it closer
to Rycon.
It screamed again. “My mistress will punish you!” Its voice was like nails on glass, tearing against my eardrums as I
pressed the edge of the blade under its skin, lifting it away from the flesh like Rycon had shown me.
“Where is your mistress?” I asked as I slowly peeled the skin back. The creature’s screams intensified, and I found myself
biting back a smile as I pulled. “Tell me, and maybe I’ll stop.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was like ice. Cold, and
unrecognizable. I felt like I was far away, and someone else was using my mouth to say the words. But it wasn’t someone else.
It was me.
This was all me and I wasn’t sorry.
The widowmaker seemed to lose the ability to form words, its voice shattered around us as I tossed the bloody strip of skin
on the ground. We stared at each other over the thrashing fiend and I could see a flicker of pride flash in his eyes.
“Good.” He murmured, before looking back down at the monster, his face darkening, and I felt the ice-cold sting of his own
rage leak through the bond. Rycon loved violence and was normally in a relatively good mood when he had the opportunity to
hurt or kill something. To see him this angry while we tortured the widowmaker spoke volumes. The memory of him crawling
across the ground towards Kasha before Kieran took her away to sell her back into the sex trade ripped through my mind, and I
had to close my eyes again.
Inhale. One, two, three, four, five.
Exhale. One, two, three, four, five.
When I had learned to breathe in anger management, never once did it occur to me that I would need to rely on these skills
in a situation like this. Rycon waited patiently for me to finish my breathing exercises. When I was done, he laid the blade I had
lent him against the widowmaker’s arm once more and gestured for me to do the same.
He made eye contact with me across the monster’s quivering form.
“Again.” He said softly, before another blood curdling scream tore from the widowmaker’s throat.
 Raven

“R ayven?” Conrad’s tired voice pierced through the incessant screaming, causing me to pause my work on the
widowmaker’s chest. I had run out of skin on its arm, and it wasn’t healing fast enough for me to continue. So, I had been
forced to work my way up towards its neck.
It still hadn’t told us anything useful and I was beginning to lose what small shred of patience I had left. If it didn’t talk
soon, I was going to cut its head off again, no matter what Rycon said. My blade paused at the sound of Conrad’s voice, but I
didn’t turn around.
“You’re awake.” I said softly, relief flooding through me. I battled with myself. Do I put the knife down and make sure
Conrad really was okay? Or flay another piece of skin? Would this piece be the one that made it talk? Would this strip of skin
be the last straw before the creature finally broke? I imagined this must be what it would feel like to have an addiction. It was a
compulsive need, an urgent voice in my head, whispering over and over again; just one more slice, just one more piece and
you will have what you need.
“Rayven. Put down di knife.” Conrad said, and I shook my head as the distant sound of waves washed over me.
He was upset. I could always tell when he was upset.
I looked up at Rycon, who was glaring at the Obeah Man over my shoulder. He however, had also paused his work on the
widowmaker’s flesh. His work was much cleaner than mine. More practiced.
“Go upstairs, Conrad.” I glowered, still refusing to face him. “I’ll be up in a bit.” Suddenly, I felt his warm hand close
around my shoulder and I jumped, spinning around. Before I knew what I was doing, the blade was pressed against his throat.
I was holding a knife to Conrad’s throat.
I gasped and immediately dropped the knife. It clattered to the ground and the sharp tang of the steel against stone seemed to
pull me from the trance-like state I had entered.
 I hadn’t meant to do that.
Conrad didn’t flinch and the absolute trust he had that I wouldn’t hurt him felt like a slap in the face.
“Conrad, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean…” My voice cracked, and he looked at me like he was worried I might break at any
moment.
“Mi know, gyall, it’s ‘aight.” He murmured gently. “Yuh ‘aight.”
Everything felt like it was too much. My power and rage were bubbling up inside me and I felt like my heart was about to
smash right out of my chest.
I was losing control.
The Obeah Man looked like he was debating whether or not to try touching me again before raising his warm brown gaze
over my shoulder to meet Rycon’s. I didn’t miss the way his eyes took in the barely conscious widowmaker; which was now
missing nearly a third of its skin.
I knew he was mentally speaking to Rycon, and that I wasn’t invited to the metaphysical conversation, but I couldn’t bring
myself to care. There wasn’t enough room for me to care about anything other than getting Amon and Kasha back. But I was
already failing. I had been down here for what felt like hours, and I hadn’t learned even one useful thing. My eyes stung with
tears and my shadows whipped around me in agitation.
“Take a break, Kitten.” Rycon said abruptly from behind me. My head whipped around, and the look on his face was grave.
“The Obeah Man is right. Go chill with your pops for a bit. I’ll finish up here.”
My pops?
Jeremy, he was referring to Jeremy.
Suddenly the barely controlled panic and rage was replaced with a rush of guilt. How long had I been down here? I had left
Jeremy upstairs, in a strange new world, surrounded by daemons and magick folk he didn’t know at all. I glanced back at
Conrad and he bent down to pick up my blade from the ground, handing it back to me hilt first. I winced as the widowmaker
blood on the blade stained his fingertips.
I wiped the blade off on my thigh, and Conrad held his hand out to me.
“I’ll bring your other one up when I’m done.” Rycon called after us as Conrad led me out of the cell. I frowned, suddenly
realizing that if I left, my shadows would need to come with me.
“What will you do for restraints?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Rycon grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know I like it when they fight back.” He winked at me. Finally, I nodded and let Conrad tug me away. I glanced back
one last time to see the shifter turn his attention back to the cowering widowmaker. He was no longer smiling.
“Alone at last.” He purred to the fiend. We turned the corner just as the screaming started up again.

THE COMMON ROOM WAS EMPTY. I NEARLY PHYSICALLY STAGGERED WITH THE BLOW OF THE EMPTINESS OF IT . NO KASHA. NO
Amon. I kept feeling like I would see him waiting for me around every corner, in every hallway. I saw him looking out over our
court when I walked past the pit, I caught a flash of silver hair down the hall ahead of us as we made our way towards our
room.
‘Hello, Raven,’ I could almost hear him greet me as the door swung open to what used to be his bedroom but had recently
become our bedroom. My aura bled out into the space, and I realized with a start that it was looking for him.
I was half of a whole, a body without a soul. A heart without a beat.
“He’s not here.” I whispered, not sure who I was talking to.
He was gone.
“Rayven,” Conrad said softly, and I turned to face him, my eyes filled with unshed tears. He was looking at me with so
much empathy and love, I could barely stand it.
“Why don’t yuh get cleaned up, mi get Jeremy. Yuh two can reconnect.”
I nodded, doing my best not to let the tears spill down my face. Conrad put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Wi will
get dem back, Rayven. Nuh worry.” He promised me, before turning and heading off to find my father.
I made my way into the adjoining cave-like bathroom that had been carved out of the same black volcanic stone that the rest
of the palace had been molded from. I avoided the bubbling hot spring, where just hours before, he had loved me into oblivion
and told me I was his Queen.
Instead, I crawled into the golden claw footed tub. My armor peeled itself off me before I collapsed into the bottom of the
basin, curling in on myself. It wasn’t a conscious effort, but my shadows turned on the water for me and I ran my hands over my
face as the water poured down around me. My fingers brushed against my cheek and I suddenly had an idea. The day Amon had
taught me how to place a trace, I had put one on his cheek as practice. Could I use it to find him?
 Hope stirred in my chest, and I slammed my eyes shut. I forced my mind to still and found the quiet state or Eriene.
My magick pooled and slipped through me, sliding up to my cheek in the mirror spot of where I had placed the trace on
Amon. I followed the thread of my shadows as they tore down the magickal line I had installed to connect us.
I grew more and more excited as I flowed further and farther down the metaphysical connection.
Was this going to actually work?
Anger and frustration tore through me as my power slammed into a wall of blackness. There was nothing here. It was just a
yawning darkness, much like it had been when I tried to find Jeremy after Ash Nevra had already kidnapped him.
I knew now what this meant. She had put a triquetra on him. I slammed against the wall of blackness, over and over again,
until my aura was raw, and my planets were broken. When I finally came to terms with the fact that I was not going to be able
to break through, I came back to my corporeal body.
Finally, I let go. The water pounded down around me, drowning out the violent sobs that wracked through my chest. My
fists wound into my dark hair as I curled deeper and deeper into my grief. For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder if it was
truly possible to die from a broken heart.
 Raven

“R aven?” I heard Jeremy call out to me from the bedroom. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath under the steady
stream of water before forcing myself to respond.
My voice sounded as shaky as I felt. “Be right out!” For a moment, it was like we were back in Toronto, and he was
calling me down for dinner with him and Clair. The added memory of my dead mother on top of this new, impossibly large
weight of loss almost pushed me right back into a pit of despair.
Forcing myself to swim against the relentless current of grief that was wrecking my insides, I sat up in the shower and
asked my shadows to turn off the water. Wrapping myself in the biggest towel I could find and piling my wet hair up on top of
my head, I padded out to see my father. He was standing in jeans and a blood-stained T-shirt, waiting for me.
“Hey Dad,” I croaked, my voice cracking. He took in my red eyes and immediately softened.
“Hey Kiddo, come here.” He murmured, stepping forward and pulling me into him. I wrapped my arms around his waist
and broke down again. The sobs were deep and raw, and he held me firmly against him while I cried. He made soothing sounds
while rocking me gently back and forth. After what felt like an eternity, I finally pulled away and sniffed.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and he shook his head, looking down at me like he never wanted to lose sight of me again.
“Don’t be, none of this is your fault.” He told me. But that wasn’t true. All of this was my fault. I was responsible. It had
been my decision to push forward. My decision to give them The Flute. And now Amon was gone, Kasha was suffering
unimaginable abuse somewhere and that fucking spider wouldn’t tell me where. Instead of telling him all this, I just shook my
head and swallowed.
“I need to get dressed.” I said, glancing up at him. He nodded.
“Of course, I can wait outside until you’re done.” He said, heading out to the hall to give me some privacy.
I made my way to the armoire that held all my clothes. Amon had magicked it into our room only nights ago, when we had
solidified our mating bond. I opened it, hoping to find my favorite knit sweater, but what was inside almost took me to my
knees. His clothes were hanging in there, next to mine. Several collared shirts in varying shades of green and black. The scent
of cinnamon floated out from the armoire, settling around me like a warm summer breeze, nearly making me lose my balance.
The strangled cry that escaped my throat summoned Jeremy back to my side as I stumbled away from the wardrobe, clutching
my towel to my chest.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, looking back and forth between me and the seemingly innocent
wardrobe.
“His clothes,” I pointed a shaking finger at the wardrobe, tears filling my eyes once more. “He put my clothes next to his.
We were… were supposed to share…” I couldn’t get the words out. I was shaking, my aura buckled and several of my tiny
stars went supernova. Being human, Jeremy couldn’t see my aura, but he could see that his daughter was in pain.
“Go sit down,” he told me softly, gesturing to the bed. “I will pick something for you to wear.” I nodded dumbly, moving in
what felt like a daze back to the large king size bed before sitting on the edge, staring straight ahead.
In through your nose, out through your mouth.
“Here,” Jeremy said, laying down a pair of comfortable black cotton pants and an oversized long sleeve black t-shirt. He
had even chosen a fresh pair of underwear for me, which might have embarrassed me a few months ago. At the moment, I was
just grateful he had been here to help me.
“Get dressed, I’ll wait outside, then we can talk.” Jeremy said, before once again leaving to give me privacy.

“READY,” I CALLED OUT ONCE I HAD CHANGED , AND HE CAME BACK INTO THE ROOM. IT WAS STRANGE, BEING AROUND A HUMAN
again. I hadn’t noticed it, but after living with daemons, shifters and magick folk for so long, the abrupt, predictable, and almost
endearingly clumsy movements of the human that was Jeremy made me feel incredibly homesick. I wasn’t sure if it was the
human world that I was missing, or just how much simpler my life had been when I had thought that I was a part of that world.
Jeremy settled down on the edge of the bed with me, putting his arm around my shoulder and kissing the side of my head.
“I’m so glad that you’re alive.” He murmured against my hair. I couldn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. Yes, I was
alive, but at what cost? Clair was dead. Amon was gone. Kasha was enslaved. Both worlds were in mortal danger and so far, I
hadn’t made one decision that had seemed to make it better. It had just been failure after fucking failure.
“Why don’t you tell me how we got here, Raven. Tell me what happened.” He somehow looked older than when I had last
seen him, even though it hadn’t been that long ago. I hesitated for a moment, not knowing where to start, or how to tell him it
was my fault his wife was dead. It was my fault he had been kidnapped and taken here. It was my fault he was on paid leave at
work… Everything was all my fault.
Finally, I shook myself off and decided to tell him because he deserved to know. And if I couldn’t give him Clair back, I
could at least give him the truth.
So, I started at the beginning. I told him how Conrad had walked into my anger management class that day and turned my
whole world upside down. I told him about the prophecy in the library and that Amon was my mate. I told him that Clair was a
witch that belonged to an old bloodline of magick folk, and that she had emancipated herself 18 years ago, triggering my
supernatural birth.
I told him about the deal she had made with Amon, to adopt and raise me until my power manifested. I told him about being
kidnapped by Rycon, and how I had come to be bonded to him. I told him how I had been tortured, and how I had held Clair
when she had died. I told him about Ash Nevra, and The Board and Olkuyrbe and how I was supposed to be the heir to The
Dominion of Sin. I told him the truth, and that all I really wanted was to be able to save the people I loved, but I just couldn’t
seem to do that.
When I was done, I was sure he would be disgusted. I waited for the other foot to drop. I waited for him to yell at me and
tell me that I should be ashamed of myself. That he could never forgive me for failing Clair. I waited and waited for the words
that didn’t come. Instead, he turned to me, and rested his hands on both of my shoulders, before looking me dead in The Eyes.
“When people are so horrible to you that you want to give up, remember, that’s what they want you to do. We don’t give
people like that what they want, Raven. We don’t ever give up.”
 Raven

R
ycon kicked the door open, and both Jeremy and I jumped. He was covered in widowmaker blood and holding a
screaming black box. All things considered, he seemed to be in a relatively good mood. His eyes lit up when they landed
on my father and a grin spread across his face, exposing his pointed canines.
“Hey Pops,” he greeted Jeremy, who glowered at him as he stood up.
“You,” Jeremy snarled, and I was struck with the realization that I probably shouldn’t have told him that Rycon had
kidnapped me. All of the anger and rage I had expected Jeremy to unleash on me was suddenly redirected. I groaned.
“Dad, leave Rycon alone.” I didn’t know how to explain that we were so far past his kidnapping that it wasn’t even worth a
discussion. I glanced up at Rycon apologetically, and he looked confused for a moment before processing my thoughts through
the bond. He dropped the screaming box, which I assumed held the widowmaker’s head, before rolling his eyes.
“You told him?” He asked me incredulously.
Jeremy scoffed. “She told me everything.”
Rycon raised an eyebrow, “I really doubt she told you everything.”
“Rycon,” I warned. The tone of my voice caused him to pause, his golden gaze met mine and a dangerous little smirk
spread across his face.
“Did she tell you she’s mated to the Prince of Pricks?”
“Rycon. Shut up.” I growled, glaring at him with everything I had. Jeremy narrowed his eyes.
“She mentioned it, yes.” His tone was cold, despite the fact he didn’t fully understand the implications of a mating bond. I
hadn’t gotten into the details around it, and was nervous to tell him the full truth.
“Did she also tell you that for daemons to mate they have to-”
“OKAY!” I interrupted, my entire face flushing red. “That’s enough.” I snapped, and Rycon chuckled. Jeremy just looked
angry and confused. I glanced down at the box, which was literally hopping and bouncing in place.
“Is that..?”
“Yeah,” Rycon nodded, handing me back my blade. He threw his hands up over his head in a lazy stretch and yawned. “It
still wouldn’t talk. But I told it about your idea of throwing it into the volcano and that honestly seemed to be the only thing that
really scared it. Maybe we should take another trip to Mount Frira.” He suggested, and I suddenly felt hopeful.
“I don’t want you going anywhere with him,” Jeremy snapped, turning to me. I raised my eyebrows in shock for a moment
at the tone of his voice. He was my dad, of course he would want to protect me from someone who had kidnapped me and tried
to murder me… twice. Both Rycon and I winced as the thoughts spilled through my mind. However, I didn’t really have the
luxury of being parented anymore. Jeremy looked back and forth between us, his eyes narrowing. I felt like he was starting to
catch on to how deep the bond ran between us.
“Don’t know how much she’s really told you, Pops, but Raven is Queen of the fucking world. Not sure you have the
authority to order her around anymore. Plus, we’re bonded. Trust me, this arrangement wasn’t exactly what I would have
chosen for myself either. But here we are.” He smirked at a furious Jeremy before turning to me. He gestured to the box. “If it’s
not going to talk, we need to dispose of it. As long as it’s here, Ash Nevra has a direct line into the palace.”
I nodded, picking the box up before heading towards the door, determination suddenly swelling in my chest. He was right. I
needed to get rid of this thing if it wasn’t going to be useful. If I was going to save Amon and Kasha, we needed a game plan.
“Let’s gather the rest of the team and figure out our next move.” I said. I glanced back at Jeremy, nodding my head towards
the door, indicating that I wanted him to come too. I could tell he was struggling to process this new dynamic.
Rycon clapped him on the shoulder on his way by and Jeremy took a very clear step away from him, a look of disgust
blooming on his face.
“Raven… this is insane.” Jeremy said, his voice stern. I glanced back at him and sighed.
“I know it is. But you were right. We have to do something. We can’t let her win. She wants me to fall apart. I can’t do that,
and honestly, Rycon is a good ally to have on our side.” I looked him up and down. His dark hair was dripping in widowmaker
blood and he was still wearing his restructium armor. He looked every bit as deadly as he actually was.
The truth was, I would always choose Rycon as an ally over an enemy. Especially after the last few months together. He
was family now. There wasn’t any going back for either of us and we both knew it.
I glanced at Jeremy and tried to lighten the mood with a rueful smile.
“He’s… an acquired taste.” I admitted and Rycon scoffed, looking offended.
“Yeah, fuck you too,” he snorted before flipping me off and shoving me into the door frame as he made his way out of the
room. I stumbled slightly as he swiped the violently shaking box out of my arms with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.
Asshole.
“You coming, Pops?” Rycon called over his shoulder. “You’ll probably like the Obeah Man better than me. He’s a lot less
fun.”
I paused, waiting to see what my dad would do. After a beat, he finally shook his head in defeat.
“Fine.” He mumbled. “Let’s go.”
 Raven

I
summoned the team with my aura, asking them to meet me in the common room, the way I had seen Amon do countless
times before. By the time we arrived, Dossidian and Conrad were already waiting for us. Meredith and the daemon I had
brought back from The Origin’s palace were missing. I frowned, concerned.
“Is she still unconscious?” I asked Dossidian. He immediately knew who I was referring to and nodded solemnly.
“Aye. Meredith is tending to her. I will update her after.”
“What are we going to do after she wakes up?” I asked, pursing my lips. I didn’t want to have to say it out loud, but she
was a slave. I wasn’t sure how the slavery bonds worked but I assumed that meant Ash Nevra could use the daemon as a
weapon against us while she was here.
Dossidian frowned. “From what Meredith tells me, at this stage we will be lucky if she wakes up at all.”
I cringed at the bite of guilt that shot through me. Her death would be on my hands if she doesn’t wake up. I had stabbed her
in the chest while escaping the palace, thinking she was an animated corpse sent to attack me.
“Rayven is right, though,” Conrad said. “Wi need to find a way to free har. Not just her, but for when wi save Prince Amon
an’ Kasha too.”
I smiled at him, appreciating the fact that he said ‘when’ we save them, and not ‘if’.
“Agreed.” Nodding resolutely, I gestured to the box in Rycon’s arms before continuing. “We also need to dispose of the
widowmaker. I’m taking its head to Mount Frira. If that doesn’t kill it, then I don’t know what will.” I announced, and
Dossidian raised his eyebrows.
“Perhaps I should take it. You have matters here that need your attention.” He informed me, and I tried not to look as
shocked as I felt.
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t think of anything more important than disposing of the monster that had cost me my mate
and my friend.
“You are Queen of The Dominion, Raven. Amon has been captured and his court needs someone to rule. You are his mate,
and we are on the brink of war. You need to start thinking about gathering allies. One of our sentries has informed me that there
are already rumors that The Court of Gluttony has declared allegiance to Ash Nevra. This is a massive blow. They have a
considerable army and are responsible for a large percentage of our food imports. When they inevitably cease to trade with us,
we will need to figure out how we are going to feed our people. It would also be wise to cease our restructium exports.
There’s no sense in sending our enemies armor.”
I felt like someone had just dumped an entire bucket of cold water on my head. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I would
need to worry about things like trade deals and building an army.
“Jesus,” Jeremy cursed softly, rubbing his hand down his face. “This is really… real.” He said, almost as if he were trying
to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. I touched his hand gently. I remembered how overwhelmed I had been when I had
learned how the world really worked.
“Told ya,” Rycon said. “She’s Queen of the world. Literally.” He flopped down into the conversion pit and frowned at the
empty table. It was normally piled with food. Another wave of grief rolled through me. Amon was not here to magick the food
to the room. I didn’t even know how he did that.
“I don’t know how to do any of that,” I admitted to Dossidian, feeling lost and overwhelmed. “I don’t even know how to
magick food onto the table.” I did know how to throw the widowmaker’s head into a volcano. That felt like a much more
achievable goal.
Dossidian smiled at me kindly and waved a hand at the table. It filled with a bountiful spread of bread, meats, and cheeses.
Rycon smirked and immediately started making a sandwich. I wrinkled my nose at him. How he had an appetite after flaying
that monster for hours was beyond me. I also suddenly felt a twinge of anxiety. If what Dossidian had said was true, and we
would be facing a food shortage, perhaps we should start rationing… watching Rycon bite into his sandwich made me feel a
pang of guilt.
“I am here to help while you learn.” Dossidian told me. The box that Rycon had dropped into the pit jumped again as the
widowmaker’s head thrashed around inside. Jeremy looked a bit pale.
“Still, I would like to be the one to take it to Frira.”
Dossidian pursed his lips, “I don’t think that is wise. There is much we need to do that should take precedence. Ash Nevra
has The Flute. As long as she has it, she will always have the power to disarm and incapacitate us. We need to start
campaigning to the other courts for allyship sooner rather than later. Ash Nevra will waste no time building her army. We also
need to research ways to sever the slavery bonds, as Conrad mentioned. Otherwise, any battles we fight will result in the loss
of thousands of innocent lives.”
The box shook again, and I felt a strange pull in my chest. I turned to gaze out of the cavernous hole in the wall that afforded
us such a breathtaking view of The Court of Pride.
“I will not be able to sleep unless I see it go in with my own eyes.” I told him, trying to be honest. During the last few
months, while I had been falling in love with Amon, the angry beast that lived in my chest had been absent.
It was back.
And it was hungry.
It needed vengeance, and if I didn’t feed it, it would spill out and hunt for itself, with or without my permission.
Looking at Jeremy, I suddenly felt afraid. Not of the widowmaker, or Ash Nevra, but of myself and what I might do if I
were to completely lose control. I couldn’t let that happen.
Rycon piped up again from where he sat in the pit, enjoying his sandwich.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. Let her go to Frira, it won’t take long. When she gets back, she can start worrying about
the rest of the world. Give her a break, she’s lost enough. If this is what she needs to do to feel better, let her fucken do it.”
I glance over at Rycon, surprised at the fact that he had come to my defense, but he was just watching Dossidian intently.
“Mi agree wit di cat.” Conrad said, surprising me even more. That was a sentence I had never thought I would hear come
out of his mouth. “Mi tink she needs tuh do dis, it might help wit di… anger.” He murmured, wincing apologetically as he
spoke. I wasn’t offended, he was right. “In di mean time, mi can go petition with Di Board for an audience. Mi know Di Board
have many powerful artifacts like di Lens in their archives. Maybe der’s someting we can use to help us overcome the power
of Di Flute. Mi also must let them know about the war dat is looming. The Board would be powerful allies tuh have on our
side.”
I perked up. “That’s a great idea, Conrad.” I beamed at him, and he gave me a solemn smile. I turned to Dossidian with
hope. I didn’t need his permission to move forward with any type of plan, but he was my friend, and I wanted him to follow me
because he wanted to, not because I ordered him to. He looked at me for a long moment, and I could nearly feel the sadness and
concern radiating off of him.
“I hear what you’re saying, Dossidian,” I said quietly, “but nothing is more important to me than getting them back. I will
not put anything else before their safe return. It’s not negotiable. Right now, knowing that she can potentially still spy on us and
use that information to hurt them while she has them… I can’t stand it.” Dossidian ran a giant palm down his face and stepped
closer to me, he cuffed my shoulder and bent down to my level, his dark eyes swimming with emotion.
“I know that, my little Queen,” he said roughly, “but Amon would not want you to forsake the wellbeing of his court in
favor of his rescue.”
“I won’t. Like Rycon said, this won’t take me long. I’ll feed the fiend to Frira and be back before you can say ‘Origin.’” I
tried to smile to lighten the mood. Finally, after a long moment, he nodded.
“Alright. You should go as soon as you can, I will take Conrad across The Veil while you are gone so that we may speak
with Walter Abbey and work to get a meeting with the Sorcerer General.” He turned to Rycon. “What will you do?”
Rycon threw his now empty hands back behind his head and kicked his feet up onto the table. I wrinkled my nose again. His
dirty boots were inches away from a plate of fluffy croissants.
“Get your feet off the table.” Jeremy snapped, I glanced at him, surprised by the outburst. I braced myself for Rycon’s
inevitable rebuttal, but to my surprise, he did what Jeremy said without comment. Resting his elbows on his knees, the shifter
looked over at me.
“If you’re going to the volcano and both Dossidian and the Obeah Man are going across The Veil, someone should stay here
with Meredith and the slave. I doubt Ash Nevra is going to launch any sort of attack this early in the game, but we need
someone here with claws to keep an eye on them.”
I nodded; he was right.
Jeremy turned to me. “I’m coming with you.” He said firmly.
Rycon snorted. “No, you’re not, you’re staying here too.” Jeremy glared at him but Rycon rolled his eyes. “Sorry Pops, but
you’re just a delicate human. She’s going there,” he pointed to the forever erupting volcano that smoked in the distance. “Your
little human body would melt the second your feet touched the ground.” Jeremy looked frustrated and torn.
Rycon continued. “Honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you for any of this. You’re a huge fucken liability…
wait… aren’t you a cop?” Rycon asked suddenly. “Yeah, you’re a detective. That means you have access to guns.” He rubbed
his chin thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face.
Guns.
Rycon loved guns.
“We should rob your precinct’s armory and get you suited up. You’d be less likely to die immediately if we run into anyone
who might be a problem.”
Jeremy looked like steam was going to blow out of his ears. “We are not robbing the Toronto Police Force!” He snarled
as if the very idea was sacrilege. I guess to Jeremy it was. He had taken an oath to safeguard both lives and property. I
supposed grand theft armory violated that oath. Rycon shrugged and leaned back again, looking amused.
“Suit yourself, but that just means you’re as helpless as a declawed kitten in this world. Which means we can’t really take
you anywhere.” Rycon’s unspoken words hung in the air around me and a rush of anger and shame flooded through my chest.
We can’t take you anywhere because Raven has made it clear that your safety will come before anything else. I looked at
my father apologetically.
“He’s right,” I whispered. “You need to stay here with Rycon until I get back. We’ll try to figure something out then.”
Jeremy looked like he was physically in pain, and everything he had known and thought to be true was slipping from his
fingers. He was coming to the realization right before my eyes. He was realizing that he couldn’t protect me from the monsters
that lurked under my bed. These monsters were real, and I had to face them on my own.
I hated doing this to him, but I didn’t have time to ease him into any of this. We needed to make moves, and quickly. Every
second Amon and Kasha were with Ash Nevra was a second she could be hurting them.
“Okay, I’m going to go get back into my armor then I’m heading out.” I said matter of factly.
Dossidian nodded, “Aye. I will let Meredith know what we are planning, then take Conrad to the Abbey house.”
“Good.” I said, and Rycon got up and stretched.
“You guys have fun. I guess I should get cleaned up before my babysitting shift starts.”
Jeremy scowled at him but he just winked and hopped out of the pit, before glancing back at me. “Kitten.”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure that fucking thing burns.” Beneath all the jokes and the cocky laziness, I could feel the guilt and the pain
coursing through him. It was nearly as strong as my own feelings of rage and failure.
I knew that if and when we found those holding Kasha and Amon captive, between the two of us, there would be no
survivors.
 Dossidian

A
fter meeting with Raven, I headed out into the East Wing. Meredith was tending to the slave in one of the empty bed
chambers next to hers. While Raven had been in the dungeons with the widowmaker, I had helped Meredith set up a
small makeshift infirmary so that she did not need to keep rushing back and forth from her own room to retrieve supplies.
She looked up at me from where she sat next to the unconscious daemon as I entered, and smiled softly. Her long blonde
flyaway hair tumbled haphazardly around her shoulders… She looked exhausted. My chest tightened. How many hours had she
been in here, working to keep this daemon alive?
This room was furnished similarly to the rest of the bed chambers in the castle. The view was not as spectacular as the
rooms in the corridor that Raven and Amon stayed in, as this room was positioned farther back in the volcano. However, the
sprawling green landscape was dotted with wildflowers and was still a sight to behold.
I pulled up the remaining chair stationed at the small table in the center of the room and settled heavily next to Meredith.
“How is she?” I asked. Meredith sighed. With a wave of her hand, the bright blue and golden threads that made up the
daemon’s life force appeared, and the green witch pointed to several places where they knotted and clustered.
“Better, she will live. I am hopeful she will wake up soon.” She glanced at me nervously, licking her lips before
continuing. “See here, and here… where the threads tangle?”
I nodded, trying to make sense of the glowing display. Daemons were not great healers. Especially daemons like me. I was
made to bring one thing and one thing only. A stab of sadness welled in my chest at the thought. I envied Meredith, and her
ability to heal. I wished I had known her sooner. If I had, maybe…I shook my head to rid myself of the painful memories; I had
learned long ago that living in the past helped no one, especially not her.
“Aye,” I replied. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but I think it has something to do with the slavery bond and this daemon’s powers. It
looks like they’ve been crippled from being repressed for so long. Almost like a bone that has been broken, then not given the
chance to reset properly.”
I rose an eyebrow. I thought of my own powers, and how often I had wished them away. I doubted this daemon would feel
the same when she woke up. I wondered how long she had been enslaved, for her powers to be completely disfigured like this.
“Who do you think she is?” Meredith whispered, looking down at the sleeping female, sadness etched into every line of the
witch’s face. I took in the daemon’s resting form. When she had first collapsed onto the floor of the common room, she had
been so covered in blood and filth that it had been impossible to discern her features. Meredith had cleaned her up and washed
her hair. She had even managed to get her into a fresh change of clothes. I was once again struck with a moment of awe of the
green witch’s respect and reverence for life. Even for the life of an enslaved daemon that she owed nothing to.
The daemon in question had fair skin and long, nearly white hair. It was striking in color and fell nearly to her waist.
“I don’t know. Ash Nevra does not tend to discriminate with her slaves. She could be anyone.”
“Whoever she is… she does not deserve this.” Meredith said, her normally soft, calm voice laced with disgust.
“Aye.” I agreed. I watched her frown at the glowing threads again as she began to worry and work at them with her fingers
in an attempt to untangle them.
She flinched slightly, and her fresh, leafy green aura wilted with the effort. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her
hand, gently pulling her away from the daemon’s life threads. Her hand was slender and delicate in mine, I nearly completely
enveloped her, as I wrapped my fingers around her. She jumped, and looked at me, startled and wide eyed. I couldn’t help but
chuckle.
“How long have you been working away at this, little witch?” I asked her. I could feel her draining next to me. Another way
magick folk differed from daemons, was the finite nature of their powers. Their powers were gifts from the deities they
worshiped, and usually came at a cost. Daemons were bottomless pits of power. We manufactured energy as easily as we drew
breath.
Whereas magick folk could fully deplete themselves to the point of harm, daemons had the opposite problem. If we weren’t
careful, we could generate so much power we could pose a risk to both ourselves, and others. This was a danger I was all too
familiar with.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve lost track of the hours.” She looked down at her hand, which was still enveloped by mine on top
of the sheets of the bed. I could feel the slight tremor in her bones.
She didn’t pull away.
“I think it’s time for you to take a break, little witch.” I said softly. “You have done all you can for right now.”
She frowned again, a small crease forming on her golden brow. I forced down the sudden urge to smooth it away with my
finger. This thought alone was enough for me to pull my hand away and slide my chair back, putting space between us.
Someone like Meredith deserved better than I. She was so entrenched in our inner circle, pursuing anything outside of a
friendly relationship with her was not a good idea. Especially considering the fact that she did not seem the type to entertain
casual romantic relationships. After… my incident, I had not allowed myself to spend more than a night in a female’s bed. I
didn’t want that for this lovely little witch, who was so kind and gentle, and who always seemed to put others before herself.
I admired her, yes. I could admit that while I sat here, inhaling her fresh minty scent, that I was attracted to her. But she
deserved more than I could ever hope to give.
Wildflowers don’t grow in the desert.
“I just don’t want her to wake up here alone,” she said, looking sad. “She is likely not used to feeling safe, and coming to a
strange place with no one there to answer questions… I know that I would panic if I were in her place.”
I suddenly wished I could offer to stay and keep watch, so Meredith could get some sleep. I was about to say as much,
when suddenly the daemon’s eyes flew open, and she shot up in bed with a panicked gasp. Meredith jumped, and I reflexively
reached for one of my sabers.
The daemon immediately grabbed Meredith by the wrist, and I leapt to my feet, pulling the green witch away in one easy
movement. In less than a second, I was facing the slave, who looked up at me with wild, terrified, crimson eyes.
“You must restrain me,” she gasped desperately. “She could force me to kill you at any moment.”
 Raven

I
t didn’t take me long to get back into my armor. I made sure Elvira’s circlet was firmly secured on my head before heading
back to the common room. Jeremy hovered by me as I picked the box up from where Rycon had left it on the bench of the
pit.
“I hate this, Raven.” He said, clearly upset. “You’re only eighteen, and you’re going off with who knows what is in that box
to drop it in a volcano? Alone?”
“We can talk more when I get back, Dad, but I don’t have time to discuss this right now.”
“Raven, I just think-”
I whipped around, losing my barely controlled patience.
“Dad. She has my mate. I know you don’t fully understand what that means, but I need to get him back. Every second we
are apart I feel like I’m dying. I can’t fucking breathe, Dad. And… I’m scared… I’m scared if I don’t keep moving forward, if
I don’t keep doing something, that I might fucking lose it and literally start killing people until I find him. I’m not saying that as
a turn of phrase, like ‘oh I’m so mad I could kill them.’ I mean, literally kill every single fucking daemon that stands in my
way.”
Jeremy’s face turned from concerned to stony, and I immediately regretted my words.
“I may not know what a mate is, Raven, but I know what it is to love someone. I was married for over twenty years.” His
words were soft, and dark. I watched him thumb his wedding band, which he still had not removed from his finger, despite
Clair’s passing months earlier. I froze, the now familiar and cold strum of guilt rattling through my chest.
My shadows erupted around me, and Jeremy’s own shadow peeled off the floor to join them as they swirled around the
room in agitation.
His eyes widened and he took a step back, but I didn’t have it in me to feel sad about it. I was just glad he was seeing a
small piece of what I was, and what I was capable of.
After taking a moment to observe the swirling darkness around us, I watched him process and come to the slow
understanding that I was the one controlling it. His eyes followed one of the shadows as it flew across the floor to wrap around
me.
He took in the look on my face, which I’m sure appeared hurt at the fact that he had taken a step away, and his expression
softened. He took two steps forward, to make up for his initial shock at the sudden use of magick and his reflexive step away. I
wondered if he was starting to realize how closely the magick was connected to my state of mind.
“I also have a daughter,” he continued, his voice tight. “Whom I love very much.” My eyes welled with tears at his words.
“I may not know what it is to have a mate, Raven, but I know what it is to love someone so much that you would do anything to
protect them.” He took another tentative step in my direction, stepping directly into the darkness that had cocooned itself
around me in a swirling vortex of complex emotion.
“Then you understand why I need to go, and why you need to stay here.” I said firmly, forcing down the lump of tears that
was lodged in the back of my throat. “I love you too dad. If anything happens to you, I won’t survive it.”
Jeremy looked so sad I could barely stand it. “I can’t lose you either, Raven. I have already lost enough.”
“I know.” I said softly. “We both have. Which is exactly why I need to stop her. I need to go.” I took my own step back,
clutching the box to my chest. “I’ll be back soon. Ask Rycon or Conrad to get you set up with a room and a change of clothes.” I
said, nodding to his t-shirt, which was still soiled with blood from when Ash Nevra had dragged a blade across his throat.
I hated looking at it.
My father, who had always been my rock, my anchor, my voice of reason, was standing before me, looking broken and lost.
I couldn’t bear to stand here to witness it for even another moment.
“I’ll be right back, Dad.” I promised softly, before my shadows carried me away, to the base of Mount Frira.
Another random document with
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lower end of the operating lever handle which engages the block
carrier lever catch, thus preventing any rotary motion of the
breechblock at the instant of firing. The firing pin receives the blow of
the percussion hammer and fires the primer. The flame passes
through the vent in the obturator spindle, igniting the propelling
charge. The gas pressure in the bore forces the mushroom head of
the obturator spindle hard against the gas check pad causing the
latter to expand and press against the walls of the chamber, forming
a gas-tight joint. After the explosion the elasticity of the pad causes it
to resume its former shape, allowing the obturator to be withdrawn
freely from its seat when the breech is unlocked.
To Open the Breech. After the piece has been fired, and before
unlocking the breech, press back the firing mechanism block safety
latch, screw out the firing mechanism block and remove the used
primer. The breech can not be unlocked with the firing mechanism
block in place. An attempt to do so will result in jamming of the firing
mechanism safety plunger. It is therefore important that the firing
mechanism block should be removed before attempting to unlock the
breech.
Press down on the handle of the operating lever in order to
disengage it from the block carrier lever catch. Move the lever
toward the rear and then to the right. In the first part of this
movement, the operating lever turns freely around the hinge pin and
its lug operates the rack which turns the breechblock. The threaded
parts of the breechblock are thus disengaged from the threads in the
breech recess. As the rack reaches the limit of its travel, the block
carrier is swung on its hinge drawing the breechblock out of the
breech recess. As the block carrier leaves the breech face of the
howitzer the rack lock is forced by its spring into the recess in the
rack preventing any further rotary motion of the breechblock in either
direction. As the breech reaches its full open position the right end of
the operating lever catch engages the operating lever catch, locking
the breech in open position.
In loading, care should be taken to ram the projectile home and to
enter the propelling charge in such a way that the igniter of the base
charge will be in contact with the mushroom head of the obturator
spindle when the breech is closed.
To Close the Breech. Press down on the operating lever handle
to disengage the operating lever latch from the operating lever catch
and move the operating lever to the left and forward. As the block
carrier comes in contact with the breech face of the howitzer, the
rack lock is pushed back into its seat, freeing the rack. Further
movement of the operating lever forces the rack to the left, rotating
the breechblock until its threaded portions mesh with the threads in
the breech recess. At the end of the movement of the operating
lever, the operating lever handle engages the block carrier lever
catch and fastens the breech in locked position.
Insert a new primer in the primer seat plug and replace the firing
mechanism block. The firing mechanism block can not be entered
until the breech is closed and locked. Any attempt to do so may
cause damage to the firing mechanism safety plunger or some part
of the firing mechanism.

THE CARRIAGE.
For the purpose of description, the carriage is considered as
composed of the following groups: Sleigh (including recoil
mechanism), cradle, trail, traveling lock, elevating mechanism,
traversing mechanism, wheels, road brake, and shield.
The sleigh contains the recoil and counter-recoil mechanism and
serves as a support for the howitzer, being secured to it by the
breech key and the holding-down band. The recoil counter-recoil
cylinders, and two air cylinders are bored in the sleigh and form the
recoil mechanism. The ends of the recoil and counter-recoil cylinders
are attached to the cradle and when the howitzer is fired the sleigh
and howitzer recoil, sliding on the cradle sides.
The holding down band is anchored on either side to the front
band clips, which are secured to the sleigh. Grooves are cut
underneath the two top edges of the sleigh, and are lined with
bronze liners, known as sleigh slides. These liners slide on the
cradle clips and guide the howitzer during recoil. Five longitudinal
cylinders are bored in the sleigh, the two upper cylinders running
about one-third the length of the sleigh, forming air tanks and are
closed at the front end by the air tank heads. The left air tank head is
provided with an opening in which the gage-cock body is assembled.
A pressure gage may be assembled through an adapter to this gage-
cock for ascertaining the pressure in the counter recoil system. The
gage-cock is also provided with a pointer which registers the quantity
of liquid in the system on a scale provided on the air tank head. The
two lower cylinders extending the full length of the sleigh, form
a housing for the recoil mechanism, the right cylinder being the
counter-recoil cylinder and the left the recoil cylinder. The small
equalizing cylinder in the center of the sleigh, extending only a short
distance, is closed at the front end with the filling valve, through
which air or liquid is introduced into the system.

155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)

SECTION, IN BATTERY
 The counter recoil cylinder is connected by a passage to the
right air tank and also to the small equalizing cylinder, the latter
being connected to the left air cylinder, thus maintaining equal
pressure in both air cylinders and in the counter-recoil cylinder. The
counter-recoil cylinder is closed at the rear end with the counter-
recoil cylinder head and at the front end with the stuffing box,
through which the counter-recoil rod and its piston moves. The
recoil cylinder is closed at the rear end with the recoil cylinder head
and at the front end with the recoil cylinder stuffing box, through
which the recoil piston rod operates. This rod is hollow and serves as
a buffer chamber for the buffer rod, which is securely screwed to the
recoil cylinder head at one end, the other end carrying the counter-
recoil valve. The recoil and counter-recoil rods are fitted with the
piston rod nuts on the front end which engage the piston rod lock
plate.
The cradle is a steel U-shaped plate reinforced by several
transoms and supported by the trunnion bracket, elevating segment
brackets, and in traveling position by the cradle band which engages
the clips on which the howitzer recoils when in action. The sleigh
traveling locks are mounted at the extreme ends of the cradle and
used to lock the sleigh to cradle when the howitzer is in traveling
position.
The cradle is mounted on trunnions on the carriage, and by means
of elevating segments geared with the elevating mechanism may be
inclined at various firing angles. When carriage is traveling the rear
end of the cradle rests on the cradle traveling lock, thereby relieving
the elevating mechanism of the weight of the howitzer, sleigh and
cradle.
The left trunnion of the cradle is bored out to receive the sight and
bracket. The shoulder guard is located on left side of the cradle just
back of the trunnion bracket and protects the gunner from the
recoiling parts. The firing mechanism is located on the right side of
the cradle and provided with a safety device which prevents the
piece from being fired when the piston rod nuts are not engaged by
piston lock.
 The recoil indicator is located just back of the trunnion bracket on
the right side of the cradle and consists of a steel spring which is
adjusted by means of a nut so that the pointer bears against a scale
engraved on the edge of the sleigh indicating the length of recoil.
The front end of the cradle is covered by the cradle head and
provided with an opening through which the pressure-gauge adapter
may be assembled to the gauge-cock body. The lower half of the
front end of the cradle is closed by the front transom, forming a guide
for the piston-rod lock which is operated by means of a lever. When
this lever is lowered the lock plate moves to the right, releasing the
piston-rod nuts. When the lever is raised the lock moves to the left,
locking the nuts in firing position. The locking device is protected by
the cradle front cover which holds the lever in firing position when
closed. The filling valve is accessible through the cradle bottom
cover located on the bottom of the cradle to the rear of the front
transom. The pump bracket is located on the left side of the cradle
near the front.

155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)

LEFT SIDE ELEVATION, IN BATTERY
 155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)
ELEVATING MECHANISM

Recoil and Counter-Recoil Mechanisms. When the howitzer is

fired the recoil mechanism exercises its retarding influence by
means of a liquid which is obliged to pass through an orifice whose
size diminishes as the movement proceeds, thus checking the
recoiling mass. The recoiling movement of the gun actuates at the
same time the counter-recoil mechanism, which acts on the counter-
recoil liquid and forces it into two reservoirs, thus further
compressing a gas therein contained. When the recoil movement is
ended the expansion of gas forces the counter-recoil mechanism
back “into battery,” and the recoil cylinder again exercises its
retarding influence to prevent a too rapid return and shock. The
normal recoil is 51.375 inches (1.305 meters).
When the piece is fired the howitzer and sleigh move to the rear,
the recoil and counter-recoil rods, which are held by the piston-rod
lock remaining stationary. The liquid in the counter-recoil cylinder is
thus forced into the air cylinders, building up a pressure sufficient to
return the howitzer to battery. The liquid in the recoil cylinder is
forced through the orifices in the recoil piston rod and then through
the throttling ring. The tapered buffer rod, which is attached to the
recoil cylinder head, moves through the throttling ring, gradually
closing the orifice, thus keeping the pressure constant as the velocity
of recoil is reduced. As the buffer rod moves to the rear the counter-
recoil valve is opened, allowing the liquid to pass freely into the
buffer chamber. As the gun returns to battery the buffer valve closes,
forcing the liquid to pass through the small clearance around the
valve, thus absorbing the energy of counter recoil.
By means of the elevating mechanism the howitzer, sleigh and
cradle are inclined at the various firing angles, varying from zero to
42 degrees, by rotation in the trunnions of the cradle.
Two elevating segments attached to the cradle are actuated by the
elevating pinion shaft operating in bearings integral with the
elevating worm wheel case secured to trail. To lower end of worm
shaft is fitted a worm which engages a worm wheel and pinion shaft
in the gear case. On upper end of worm shaft is attached the
elevating hand wheel fitted with a handle and plunger enabling the
operator to lock the howitzer at any desired elevation. The motion of
the handwheel is transmitted through the worm gear to the pinion
shaft and thence to the elevating segments.
 155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)
TRAVERSING ROLLERS

The handwheel is provided with a handle of a spring locking type,

downward pressure on which unlocks it from the handwheel latch
plate, permitting the mechanism to be operated.
Traversing Mechanism. The traverse of the carriage is obtained
by means of the traversing mechanism causing the carriage to slide
on the axle, the trail pivoting on the spade. The movement is 3
degrees each side of center or a total of 105 mils.
At the center of the axle is rigidly attached a bronze traversing nut
through which passes the traversing screw which may be operated
from either side of the carriage by means of handwheels connected
to the screw through bevel gears and shaft. The traversing screw
operates in the travelling housing longitudinally and held in position
by thrust bearings and thrust bearing adjusters at both ends of the
screw. When either of the handwheels is operated the traversing
screw is rotated and moves to the right or left as the case may be,
carrying the entire carriage which moves across the axle on
traversing rollers.
In order to reduce friction during the traversing operation the
carriage rests on the axle through Belleville springs and two concave
faced traversing rollers mounted on roller shafts in the axle housing.
When gun is fired the Belleville springs are compressed and the
carriage rests on the axle through the bronze traversing roller boxes.
On top of axle projecting to the left of carriage is riveted an
azimuth scale graduated in mils so that the position of the carriage
on the axle may easily be seen at any time. When in traveling
position the carriage should be locked to the axles by the axle
traveling lock, thus relieving the traversing mechanism from
unnecessary stress.

155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)

TRAVERSING MECHANISM
 The axle traveling lock is a device employed to relieve the
traversing mechanism from unnecessary stress when the carriage is
in traveling position. When the carriage is prepared for traveling the
traveling lock engages a series of square grooves cut in the center of
the axle. The lock is operated by an eccentric on the end of the
traveling lock shaft which is controlled by the lock lever fixed on
outer end. The lock lever may be placed in two positions marked “to
travel” and “to fire,” by means of its handle which is provided with a
spring plunger engaging the traveling lock catch. In order to properly
lock the carriage in traveling position it is necessary to traverse the
carriage to the center position on the axle, thus permitting the locking
device to engage the grooves cut in the center of the axle.
The air pump is furnished for the purpose of charging and
maintaining the necessary pressure in the counter recoil reservoirs.
When in operation it is attached to a bracket on the carriage by
means of a screw clamp and connected to the reservoir by the filling
pipe. The pump will operate against a pressure of 400 to 600 pounds
per square inch.
The liquid pump is a single-acting-plunger used for charging the
counter-recoil system and for the purpose of replenishing losses of
liquid from the cylinders. Power is applied through a hand lever
connected by parallel links and a cross-beam at the lower end of the
piston. The hand lever is detachable and also used in connection
with the air pump. When in operation the pump is attached to a
bracket on the carriage by means of a screw clamp. The filling pipe
is employed to connect the liquid pump with the recuperator cylinder.
The reservoir for compressed gas is a commercial seamless
cylinder with a capacity of 2,842 cubic inches and is charged with
nitrogen gas at a working pressure of 2,000 pounds per square inch
(140 kilograms per square centimeter). The reservoir is provided with
a needle valve and a connection for the pressure gage or filling pipe.
This cylinder is used for charging the counter-recoil system and may
be carried on the artillery supply truck furnished with 155-mm
organizations.
155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)
AIR AND LIQUID PUMPS
 155 MM HOWITZER, MODEL OF 1918 (SCHNEIDER)
TRAVELING POSITION

The filling pipe is used to connect the counter-recoil reservoirs

with the air or liquid pump or with the compressed gas reservoir.
Pressure Gage. The gage for the compressed gas reservoir is
calibrated from 0 to 150 kilograms per square centimeter. It is used
to ascertain the pressure of gas in the reservoir and must be
attached before screwing on the filling pipe. The gage for the
pressure-gage adapter is calibrated from 0 to 60 kilograms per
square centimeter, is screwed into the side of the adapter and used
to test the pressure in the counter-recoil system.
The quadrant sight, model of 1918 (Schneider), is mounted on
the left trunnion of the carriage, both in traveling and in action, and
should not be removed by the battery mechanics. The principal
features of the quadrant sight are: The cross-leveling mechanism,
the elevating mechanism, and the angle of site mechanism.
 The cross-leveling mechanism principally consists of the leveling
worm, leveling stop, antibacklash spring, leveling clamp, and cross
levels. By means of the cross-leveling mechanism the quadrant sight
is adjusted to proper alignment with the bore of the howitzer.
The bracket fits into the trunnion on the left side of the carriage
and is provided with four tennons which engage slots in the face of
the trunnions keeping the sight in proper alignment with the bore of
the howitzer. The bracket is screwed in place by the bracket bolt; the
front end of the body of the quadrant sight fits into the cylindrical part
of the bracket and is held in place longitudinally by four lugs.

QUADRANT SIGHT, MODEL OF 1918.

(SCHNEIDER)

The body of the sight is rotated by the leveling worm engaging the
worm segment cut on the under side of the body. The outer end of
the worm is provided with a knurled hand wheel by means of which
the leveling mechanism is operated. The leveling stop, secured to
bracket, engages slot in the body, thus limiting the angular motion of
the body in either direction. The rear end of the cylindrical part of the
bracket is split and provided with a leveling clamp by means of which
the body may be locked in position after it has been leveled.
The cross level is located on the rear edge of the sight shank and
serves the gunner in determining the level position of the instrument.
The level vial is a glass tube, closed at both ends, and partially filled
with a liquid consisting of 4 per cent alcohol and 60 per cent ether, a
small bubble remaining in the tube. Graduations are etched on the
circumference of the tube to indicate the central position of the
bubble. The vial is held in a level-vial tube, the ends being wrapped
in paper and set in plaster of paris. The knurled cross-level cover fits
over the holder and, together with the level-vial tube, are held in
place by the cross-level caps, which close the ends of the holder.
When closed, the cover serves as a protection for the vial.
The elevating mechanism consists principally of a sight shank,
elevating worm wheel, antibacklash pinion, elevating worm, elevating
worm eccentric, elevating scale drum, and scale drum housing.

NOTES ON CARE OF THE 155 HOWITZER.

The executive should be perfectly familiar with the working of the
recoil and know when to put a gun out of action due to faulty recoil.
The length of the recoil should be such that the end of the gun slides
do not recoil over the end of the cradle rails. In counter-recoil, the
sleigh should be perceptibly slowed down at a point about 10
centimeters from the front of the cradle, and from there on should
ease gently into battery without a sound or shock. Strict watch
should be kept to see that no excessive leakage takes place through
the stuffing boxes, the valve in the gauge adapter, or the oil hole in
the cylinder end nut. Slight leakage can hardly be helped, as one of
the stuffing boxes is under more than four hundred pounds of
pressure per square inch when the gun is at rest, and three or four
times that amount when the gun is in full recoil. However, if a pool of
liquid is found after the gun has been standing all night, it is time to
report the matter and have the packings replaced. The gun must be
dismounted, the stuffing-box repacked, and the dermatine inspected.
The dermatine packing is a compound resembling rubber, but it has
the quality of resisting any chemical action that the liquid may set up
in the recuperator. A worn dermatine packing may be replaced by
the simple expedient of turning it wrong side out and then using it
again as before. This has actually been tried and found to give good
results. Another temporary repair was effected by cutting a ring from
a solid truck tire and using it in the place of the dermatine, until a
packing of the latter could be obtained.
The French obtain a very tight fit in their stuffing boxes by the
peculiar design that allows the liquid pressure to actuate a strong
spring which in turn expands the packing against the rod or cylinder
wall. Leakage through the recuperator stuffing box will be noticed by
the liquid coming out of the oil hole in the right-hand cylinder end nut.
In dismounting French materiel, care must be used to replace the
same nuts on the bolts from which they were taken. Threads are not
standardized as to diameter; hence, trouble is likely to occur when
remounting.
To dismount the tube from the recoil mechanism, or sleigh as
it is denoted, a suitably strong overhead beam is selected and the
carriage run beneath it. Mount two one-ton duplex blocks on the
beam over either end of the tube and thread the bore with a half-inch
wire cable sling, in such a manner as to leave a bight at both muzzle
and breech ends. Into these loops the hooks of the block catch.
Gunny sacks form a suitable packing at the muzzle and breech to
prevent the cable damaging these parts of the tube. Provide several
blocks of two by four or four by four stuff, to block up the sleigh as it
is moved to the rear—as we shall soon see that it does. Remove the
locking hoop by knocking out the retaining bolts, and also remove
the cradle bolts from their housing on the cradle. This will allow the
sleigh to move to the rear of the cradle. Take a strain on the blocks
and carefully move the sleigh back over the trail until the recoil-lug
key (locking the recoil lug to the sleigh) clears the end of the cradle.
Remove the set screw from the bottom of the sleigh which locks the
tapered key in place, and proceed to drive the key out with a sledge
hammer and a block of wood. During this operation the rear of the
sleigh must be blocked up on the trail in order to take the strain off
the cradle rails. After the key is cleared, the tube may be raised by
means of the two blocks, care being taken to make the lift vertical,
otherwise the slots and grooves just in front of the breech will jam
and be damaged. Remove the carriage and lower the tube onto
blocks. The process of mounting is just the reverse of the above.
The elevating and traversing mechanisms give little trouble, if all
gear cases are kept packed in grease. It is extremely important that,
in laying for elevation with this piece, the final turns of the handwheel
should bring the gun into correct position by raising the breech and
not by lowering it. In this way all backlash is taken out of the gearing
and the howitzer rests solidly for firing. The gunner may easily be
taught to remember this by always having him bring the range
bubble to the front of the glass and then slowly elevate the breech,
bringing the bubble to him.
The traversing mechanism moves the whole carriage, including
gun, along the axle, about the spade as the center of rotation. The
traversing screw moves the carriage by being rotated through nut set
solidly in the axle. The axle and nut are stationary and the screw
moves laterally by means of the traversing handwheel. Hence, the
carriage being attached to the screw, must move when the screw
moves. Inasmuch as the axle is straight, it must accommodate itself
to the arc of the circle described about the spade as the center. It
does so by moving tangent to the arc, and consequently one end
moves to the front and the other end moves to the rear, carrying the
wheels with them. From this it will be seen that before attempting to
traverse the piece, the brake must be “off.” The movement of the
wheels may be easily seen, if a pencil line be drawn across the tire
just above the brake shoe and then the piece traversed. The line will
be seen either to raise or lower according to whether the piece be
traversed to the right or left.
In filling the “brake” or recoil cylinder, good results have been
obtained by merely leveling the gun and filling the brake cylinder until
full. Trying to pour out one hundred cubic centimeters of the liquid
after the brake is full, as the French drill regulations lay down, is
almost impossible; and no bad effects will be noticed provided the
gun does not become excessively warm during the firing. If it should
become warmed up sufficiently to affect the recoil, level the gun,
unscrew filling plug to release the pressure, rescrew, and continue
the fire. In using the manometer gauge, to measure the pressure and
the height of the liquid in the recuperator, it will be found that the
valve in gauge adapter will sometimes stick open to the extent of
letting out all the air in the recuperator tanks. The only sure remedy
for this is entirely to dismount the gun, remove the adapter, and
replace its valve packing, which no doubt will be found to be worn
and frayed, or else some foreign substance will be found to be lying
between it and its seat. The gauges should be tested about once in
three months by means of a standard steam gauge testing
apparatus, making the appropriate transformations if the tester be
graduated to pounds per square inch as most steam testers are. It
will be found that the maximum steam pressures used are rather
lower than these gauges read, hence only the lower readings may
ordinarily be tested.
To set the pointer to the correct pressure reading, pull the pointer
loose and apply a known pressure to the gauge. Set the pointer at
the corresponding reading on the manometer and press it on tightly.
In general, this is sufficient for practical work.
After each firing the breechblock should be entirely dismounted
and each part washed in caustic soda solution and then stippled with
oil before reassembling.
The wheels are made of smaller members than those that we are
accustomed to see in our own materiel. It must be remembered,
however, that the French designed their wheels for much better
roads than ours; and, in comparison with our materiel throughout,
this fact must be borne in mind. The wheels must be carefully
watched, especially through the dry weather, for they tend to check
and crack. Remedies are tire shrinking and soaking in water over
night, followed by a thorough and careful application of linseed oil.
Fast travel, as when the piece is coupled to a truck, must be avoided
if the life of the carriage is to be assured.
 According to the French drill of the gun squads, in going into
action, the piece is first unlimbered and the trail is then laid on the
ground, and the cannoneers change posts to the extent of the
gunner going to his position by his sight; while the remaining
cannoneers lift the trail again and set the spade. This is slow and
cumbersome work. Much better results may be obtained by setting
the spade at the time that the piece is unlimbered, without moving
the cannoneers from their posts.
 CHAPTER XII
EXPLOSIVES, AMMUNITION AND FUSES.

EXPLOSIVES.
As a matter of practical interest, explosives may be divided into
three classes, namely:
(1) Progressive or propelling explosives called low explosives.
(2) Detonating or disruptive explosives, termed high
explosives.
(3) Detonators or exploders, known as fulminates.
The first includes all classes of gun powders used in firearms of all
kinds; the second, explosives used in shell, torpedoes, and for
demolitions; the third, those explosives used to originate explosive
reactions in the two first classes. Corresponding names are given to
the phenomena characteristic of each class of explosives, (1)
explosions proper, of low order, progressive, or combustions, (2)
detonations, of high order, (3) fulminations, this last possessing
exceptional brusqueness.
The explosion of low order is marked by more or less progression;
the time element is involved as a controlling factor, the time required
to complete the explosive reaction being large compared with that of
the other forms of explosion.
The second class of explosion is of a different nature. The
explosive reaction is not limited or confined to the surfaces exposed
but appears to progress in all directions throughout the mass radially
from the point of initial explosion. It has been determined
experimentally that the velocity of propagation of the explosive wave
throughout a mass of guncotton is from 17,000 to 21,000 feet per
second.
 Fulmination is a class of explosion still more brusque than the last.
The abruptness of their explosion and the consequent sharpness of
the blow and the concentration of heat on the point of ignition
constituting their efficiency as originators of explosions of the first
two classes.
Methods of Exploding. Explosives may be exploded by three
methods; in reality but two, by heat and by application of energy as
by a blow. The heat may be applied directly by friction, by electricity
and detonating cap, these two methods of applying the heat giving
rise to the three practical methods above mentioned. As it is not
practical to apply heat directly to the charge, small charges of special
explosives are made up into primers and these are exploded in one
of the ways above mentioned and so communicate the explosion to
the main charge. Fulminate of mercury is one of the high explosives
fulfilling the requirements and it is readily exploded by any one of the
methods mentioned. It is used in all detonating caps. Primers for
cannon also contain an additional charge of black powder to
increase the flame. For this purpose also igniting charges of black
powder are attached to the smokeless powder charges for the larger
calibers.
Uses. The chief use of low or progressive explosives is as a
propelling charge in guns and for blasting where it is desired to exert
a pushing effect rather than a blow. High explosives are used when it
is desired to exert a high pressure and shatter the container, as in a
shell, mine, etc. This class is not satisfactory as a propelling charge
for the reason that its rapidity of action is so great that the pressure
exerted would burst the gun before the projectile could start. Low
explosives are not satisfactory shell fillers for the reason that their
action is so low that the shell would break at its weakest point before
all the explosives had exploded and what remained would be
wasted. With a high explosive, all or most of the charge explodes
before the shell can break up. The greater the rapidity of action of an
explosive the finer the fragmentation of the projectile. With too rapid
action the pieces are too small; with too slow action they are too
large. Experience teaches the proper rapidity of action to attain the
fragmentation most efficient against animate and material targets.