Marc J Gregson is a
New York Times bestselling author. He attended the University of Utah, where he received his bachelor of arts in English teaching. Marc’s pursuit of learning has led him into the classroom, where he teaches middle school English. He believes in the power of words and that stories can unite people from all origins. Above the Black is his first fantasy trilogy for teens.
Strap in for a high-octane mission that hurls Conrad and crew toward jaw-dropping discoveries that could trigger total obliteration, in Book Two of the Above the Black fantasy trilogy from the New York Times bestselling author of Sky's End.It takes guts to rise to the top of Meritocracy. It’ll take sheer ruthlessness to stay there. As militants and monsters lay waste to the Skylands, Uncle’s lawless tyranny threatens to unravel fragile Trade alliances. Conrad, no longer a mere Captain, now commands a squadron of ships at the order of the King. But Conrad’s High status can’t protect him from his own turmoil, and the price of power is steeped in blood.
Tormented by tragedies of war and by betrayal from his own family, Conrad must prove his worth to
all of the Skylands. Led by an unhinged Explorer, Conrad embarks on a secret expedition to turn the tides of battle—before another island falls at the jaws of the gigataun. It’s a journey fraught with peril: Deadly monstrosities. Sabotage. Stowaways. And with friendships pushed to the brink and gentle romance stirring, Conrad will have to muster more than courage to weather the raging storms ahead.
Order your copy of Book Two of the Above the Black trilogy and continue the adventure! Marc J Gregson expands his fast-paced fantasy universe with shocking twists, treacherous battles, and a memorable cast of characters. Fans of Frank Herbert and Jules Verne will appreciate touches of classic science fiction, including speculative frontiers and turbulent political intrigue.
The book is packed with action...readers will gain insights into the worldbuilding, including the roles of the various Trades and the motivations of the Lantians. The ending sets the stage for an exciting trilogy finale.
—Kirkus Reviews
Flashy action sequences and vividly described battles keep up the momentum. . . .A dramatic installment for fans and a solid comp for battle-centric shonen titles and dystopian novels.
—School Library Journal
Chapter 01My sister stands over an unconscious member of my crew.
Ella’s white hair flies in the wicked evening wind, and blood dribbles from the end of her dueling cane. I leap from the hatch and step onto the deck of my skyship. She rotates on her heels, and her fierce eyes find mine.
“He was being insubordinate,” she hisses.
“What have you done, Ella?”
She glances at Declan. And spits.
My stomach twists at the sight of the man beneath her boots. The green pin of Swabbie shines on his jacket. Declan of McDougal. He’s an aged veteran, honorable. Keeps the deck clean, the laundry scrubbed, and the corridors clear.
Blood stripes his forehead.
A jagged streak of lightning cracks behind Ella, illuminating the other ships in my squadron. Ella’s lips curl as she stares at me.
My late father’s voice creeps into my mind.
Take her cane before she hurts you, too.“Ella.” I breathe to slow my raging heart. “On my ship, Declan doesn’t have to follow your commands.”
“I am the Princess of the Skylands.”
“So?”
Her mouth shuts, and her eyes narrow. “You are the
Prince.”
I meet her gaze dead‑on. Being delicate doesn’t work with her.
“Uncle gave me that title, but my crew follows me because they respect me.” I take a step toward her. “Princess or not, this is
my ship. You are not a Hunter. You have no right to attack my crew. Step away from him.”
She squeezes her cane dangerously and remains in place. I almost scowl. It’s always a challenge with her. We finally reunited after Uncle tore us apart for six years, and I thought we’d go back to the way we were when we were rich Highs in Urwin Manor. When we’d steal cookies from the kitchen and break windows and leave mud pies under the blankets of our guests’ beds.
But we’ve outgrown such things. Uncle poisoned Ella’s heart, turning her into the angry thing that stands before me.
“Ella.” My voice rises. “Step back.”
“He is
untrustworthy, Conrad.”
“Declan’s an old man.”
“He was talking to someone.” She jabs at the empty night sky around us. The three other skyships in my squadron float -nearby—-but not close enough to hear anyone aboard my ship. “There’s no one on deck, Conrad. Who was he talking to?”
“He talks to himself,” I growl. “Whispering. Laughing. Singing. He’s weird, but he’s a great Swabbie. And my crew loves him.” My voice tightens with frustration. “Now, get back.”
When I approach her, she readies her cane. So I snatch it, quick as a snake strike. She nearly topples. I tap the button on the side of her cane, halving its length to three feet. The cane was our mother’s. It was supposed to be Ella’s path to learn a better way. Instead, it has emboldened her warped sense of power.
“Give it back.” Ella crouches, hands outstretched like some wild thing about to jump me. “Now.”
Brutally cold wind blows between us. I stoop over Declan and press my fingers against his neck until I find a steady pulse. He still needs medical help.
“This is not the way, Ella,” I whisper.
“This is Meritocracy, Brother. The Highs rise, and the Lows fall.”
“It is not the
right way.”
She pauses. Considering me with her icy green eyes. Some claim Ella’s the worst of my family. Worse than Uncle, even. The Father part of me, the part that wanted me to learn the world’s hard, brutal lessons, demands that I teach Ella the hard lessons, too. Beat her with the cane she used on Declan and humble her.
But the Mother part of me believes in another way. One of compassion and growth through experience.
“Attacking my crew is unacceptable,” I say. “Physical conflict is not the Hunter way.”
She scoffs. “You can’t tell me to act like a Hunter, then forbid me from hunting with the rest of the crew. I killed three prowlons. By myself.”
“Prowlons are not -five--hundred--foot gorgantauns, Ella. You’re not ready for sky serpents.”
“I’m ready for more than you know.”
My head shakes. What the hell am I supposed to do with her? It’s been three months since our reunion, and I’m exhausted from the battles. She fights with my whole crew. She sneaks around the ship and eavesdrops on everyone. And despite being the Princess, she has a penchant for stealing.
Roderick’s still missing weapon plans.
Beat her down, Father’s voice whispers again.
Humiliate her. Ensure she’ll never challenge you. Because deep down, you know she wants what you have. She wants to be the heir.I study her. She has too much of Father in her. What she needs is more of Mother. But I can’t be her mother. All I can do is teach her in the ways Mother taught me.
“Conrad,” Ella growls. “Give me the cane.”
The stag of Hale shines at the end of Mother’s cane. Beating Ella won’t fix her. No, she needs something Uncle never gave.
So I toss her the cane.
Ella snatches it and blinks, confused. But, after a breath, she starts toward the hatch.
I cut her off and point at Declan. “He needs to go to the medical room. You owe that to him. And when he wakes, you’ll apologize.”
“Urwins don’t apologize. I’m not your servant, and I’ll not drag him anywhere.”
She tries to -side--step me, but I block her path again.
“Move,” she says.
“Hit me.”
“What?”
“Hit me, and you’ll be excused. You can do whatever you want for the rest of the night.”
She hesitates. If she were all rotten, she’d have already done it.
“Hit me once, Ella, and you’re free to go.”
She eyes me, licks her teeth, then crouches into her dueling stance. “Have it your way.”
I frown. “Your posture’s too low.”
“Birdshit.”
I sigh. Ella hasn’t faced true challenge yet. Sure, Uncle forced her to hunt prowlons, and she fared in that trial better than I did . But when Uncle threw Mother and me out, I survived by dueling in the Low pit and enduring nights with hunger gnawing away at me while listening to Mother’s hacking coughs. For six years, that was my life. Then, on this very ship, I rose from the -boot--waxing Swabbie to Captain.
Uncle’s teachings cannot replicate real experience.
“Stand straighter,” I say, circling around her. “Raise your cane.”
“That’s not how Father taught me.”
“
Father? Uncle is
not your father.”
“Might as well be. Uncle didn’t abandon us. He didn’t leave us.”
“Leave?” I take a breath to swallow my anger. “Ella, Father was murdered.”
“He was -weak—-not the true leader of Urwin.”
My voice grows bitter. “You sound like Uncle.”
“That’s because I
am like Uncle.”
I stop. I’m on this cold deck, the gales chilling my skin, standing in front of the person I dreamed of rescuing for years. But all I feel now is an empty heart.
“Ella,” I say softly. “I was on your path once, too. I was a paranoid, irrationally angry person who ate alone in the cafeteria and refused to engage in meaningful conversation with anyone. It got me nowhere. But being better than what the world intends . . . that got me where I am now.”
“It made you Prince?”
“No, it made me Captain of this ship, and that’s what I care about more than being the heir.”
She eyes me skeptically. “Being better . . . who said that?”
“Mother.”
Ella considers this, then shrugs. “Hardly knew her.”
I glower. “Fine. Use what your ‘
father’ taught you. Strike me with the cane once and you’re free to go.”
“Your cane’s in your cabin. I’d rather duel. It’s not a fair fight right now.”
I laugh. “Fair? This world is
never fair. But I’m sure you’ve learned that lesson. What you need,” I pause, “is the lessons Mother taught.”
She studies me. “What lessons?”
“Compassion. Mercy. Proving that true strength comes not from weakening others but building them up. True leaders lead powerful people.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Do you think I’m weak?”
She doesn’t answer.
Bitter wind blows between us again, and a gentle rain peppers the deck.
“Use all that Uncle taught you.” I wave her toward me. “C’mon.”
She spits, then crouches in her -too--low stance again. The next instant, she’s swinging her cane at me. Fast, her eyes wild, movements agile.
But I’m nimbler. Her attacks hiss past my head, my shoulder. Strike air instead of my gut. She swears with frustration. Ella has Uncle’s sensibilities in dueling. Uncle never likes a duel to last more than a minute. To become King, he challenged King Ferdinand to a duel and killed him in under ten seconds.
Her cane grazes my skin, but I slide away before she can get me. Ella continues jabbing. I step back, giving her an open path to the hatch. She studies me, then marches for it, her eyes gleaming with victory.
But I cut her off.
She scowls and furiously charges me again. I duck away and pivot around her. She keeps on the offensive. Swinging wild, frenzied attacks. Finally, her cane nearly strikes my cheek, but her momentum sends her sprawling and she hits the deck, -chin--first.
If I’d listened to Mother’s lessons only, I’d rush to her. Maybe let my guard down. But Father taught me to never trust a downed foe, especially one who needs a whole damn gallon of humility.
Ella’s rolling in pain. I watch her and wait for the act to end. Eventually she snaps upright, brushes herself off, and seems ready to shout at me. Her body’s shuddering with frustration.
My fingers twitch, preparing for another attack. Instead, she leans on Mother’s cane and takes a long, calming breath. She looks me up and down.
The rain’s falling thick now. Making her white hair stick to the side of her reddened face.
“What does it mean?” she asks softly. “What does it mean to be better than what the world intends?”
A sudden hope blooms inside me. This isn’t a breakthrough, not much more than a flicker of a candle, but it’s something. For months, I’ve been looking for an opening just like this.
“Help me take Declan belowdecks,” I say, “and I’ll tell you.”
She considers me, stands straighter, then retracts her cane and clips it to her belt.
“Fine.”
My chest swells a little. Maybe I’ve just discovered the secret to getting Ella to listen to me. She respects strength. And perhaps through that vessel, I’ll teach her and finally become the big brother Mother would want me to be.
We walk to a small control panel, recently installed by Roderick, and tap a button. The deck cracks open in the center and the munitions platform rises. Harpoons, mobile launchers, flak cannons, and shoulder cannons rest in the crates atop the platform.
We catch Declan’s collar and gently drag him onto the platform. After another touch of the button, the platform descends us into the bowels of the ship. While the attached chains rattle, I feel Mother with me as I begin explaining to her daughter the lessons she never had a chance to pass on herself.
Über den Autor
Marc J Gregson
