Daughter of the Underworld

"Strong character development and jaw-dropping reveals make this intense, feminist fantasy a must-read." —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

Join a thrilling journey into the Underworld, with all its jealousy, betrayal, and deception, in this first part of an original fantasy duology inspired by ancient Greek myth.

Deina is trapped. As one of the Soul Severers serving the god Hades on earth, her future is tied to the task of shepherding the dying from the mortal world—unless she can earn or steal enough to buy her way out. So when the tyrant ruler Orpheus offers both fortune and freedom to whoever can retrieve his dead wife, Eurydice, from the Underworld, Deina jumps at the chance. To succeed, however, she must enter an uneasy alliance with a group of fellow Severers that she neither likes nor trusts. As their perilous journey into the realm of Hades begins, with the reward of freedom ahead, what will it take for Deina to reach her prize? From the authors of A Throne of Swans and A Crown of Talons comes a stunning new YA duology set in a world inspired by the mythology of ancient Greece, perfect for fans of Alexandra Bracken’s Lore and Jessie Burton’s Medusa.The worldbuilding is unique, featuring the epic qualities of a heroine’s journey and many unpredictable reveals. . . .Strong character development and jaw-dropping reveals make this intense, feminist fantasy a must-read.
—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

Deina is a clever, resourceful hero who, along with her multifaceted companions, believably changes as secrets, betrayals, and true identities are revealed. Coauthored by sisters, this dark duology opener gives a familiar genre a fresh twist, blending a variety of myths and stories from ancient Greek and Mycenaean history into a stunning backdrop for an epic tale of meddling gods and ambitious humans.
—Booklist

Action-packed . . . a darker successor to Percy Jackson.
—School Library Journal

Steeped in blood, betrayal, and mysticism, this is a deliciously dark tale of legendary proportions—a book of smart, savage beauty that kept me reading long into the night.
—Josh Winning, author of The Shadow Glass

A beautiful, breathtaking adventure through the world of ancient Greece and the Greek myths. Daughter of the Underworld puts a twisty, surprising spin on the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, with plenty of heartache and betrayal and a trickster heroine who had me rooting for her from the very first line. Now . . . when can I read the next one?!
—Holly Race, author of Six Wild Crowns

It’s gory, it’s fun, it’s heartbreaking, it’s funny, and it’s a very good read.
—Bea Fitzgerald, author of Girl, Goddess, QueenKatharine and Elizabeth Corr are sisters originally from Essex, England, now living in Surrey. When they both decided to write novels—on account of fictional people being much easier to deal with than real ones—it was obvious they should do it together. They can sometimes be found in one of their local coffee shops, arguing over which character to kill off next. Katharine and Elizabeth are authors of the enthralling A Throne of Swans duology and the spellbinding trilogy The Witch’s Kiss.Prologue
Sing, O muse . . .
That’s how the old stories used to start. At least, that is how they used to start in Hellas, Greece—of all realms the most jealously guarded by its gods. A light‑drenched land set in wine‑dark waters, its craggy hillsides dense with pine, bright with acanthus, loud with the constant thrum of cicadas. Hillsides crowned with the cities of men: Mycenae, citadel of long‑dead Agamemnon; warlike Sparta; rocky Aulis, where Iphigeneia died at her father’s hand. Pylos of the golden sands, on which the palace of wise Nestor once stood, looking out across the Ionian Sea. And mightiest of all, Thebes, from where Orpheus the Tyrant sends out his armies, cutting down kingdom after kingdom.
Sing, O muse, a song of Death . . .
There’s the city of Iolkos, high on its hill above the Gulf of Pagasae. One-time home of Jason, second‑rate hero, third‑rate husband, and thief of the golden fleece. But the heroes—good and bad—dwindled and disappeared long ago. Now there are gods, and there are men, and there is Orpheus—a mortal who thinks he is a god. Iolkos is just a backwater, another place caught within his net. And there, in a granite‑walled complex beyond the boundaries of the city, in a small lamplit room with its windows open to admit moonlight and the scent of rosemary from the garden beyond, lies a girl who is dying.
Sing, O muse, a song of Death and the maiden . . .
Sickness stalks the broad streets of Iolkos, and Death follows in its wake. After all, he is everywhere, in all living things: their beginnings, their endings, and each moment of existence between. Built into every atom of the space they inhabit. He is only, and always, to be expected. Whether through disease or violence or the swift‑footed passage of the years, all life eventually falls beneath the shadow of his wings.
A plague has left fresh scars on this girl’s cheeks. Her eyes are mismatched—one dark brown, one gray green—and half veiled by fever‑fluttered lids. And there’s a symbol on her forehead. She’s one of the Theodesmioi, the god‑marked. Marked by Zeus, king of the heavens and the earth, or by Poseidon, lord of the seas, or by Hephaestus, hammer‑wielding master of metals, or, in this girl’s case, by Hades, ruler of the Underworld. Serving the city in Hades’s name and drawing a fraction of the god’s power in return. A very small fraction. Not enough to save herself.
Death tightens his grip on his sword. Swings back the blade, ready to sever her lifeline and unship her soul from its earthly vessel. The movement brings him closer to her face.
Her unseeing eyes open. For the first time in more centuries than he can remember, Death hesitates.
A ring of gold has burst into being around the pupil of the girl’s dark brown eye like the sudden unfolding of a sunflower. She gasps with pain and sinks back into oblivion. His sharp‑edged blade is still ready. He knows he ought to use it.
And yet . . .
And yet, who’s to say she can’t survive? She’s strong. A fighter. Perhaps there’s something she wants very badly. A reason for her to try to stay alive. Death sheathes his sword, doing his best to ignore the voice he thought he’d long since silenced, the insidious whispering of hope.
What if she could be the one?
The girl’s existence hangs by a fraying thread, fine as spider’s silk, brittle as old bone but not quite broken. Death lingers, warming himself at the flickering embers of her life. She can’t see him. She can’t hear him. Still, he murmurs two words into the darkness.
Fight harder.