Children of Fallen Gods (The War of Lost Hearts Book 2) by Carissa Broadbent (good english books to read .TXT) 📕

“It is a fantasy,” Ishqa muttered. “I knew Ezra, once, long ago. He was a good warrior and leader. But he is living in a dream world now, and he knows it, even if his wife and children do not.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” I said, and Ishqa gave me that look — that kind that was ever-so-slightly pitying.

“Perhaps it is a nice fantasy. But a fantasy nonetheless. Nature was not made for such a union. He will watch his wife grow old and die, and his children, and his children’s children. The garden he is tending may be beautiful right now, but he will have to watch it wither. And that’s if he doesn’t have to watch others come burn it first.”

His words hurt more than it seemed they should. I pressed my fingers to the glass and looked down at the city. “But isn’t having built something worth more than the fear of it being destroyed?”

“I think it is.”

The sound of the voice had us all whirling to the doorway. Athalena stood there, a single flame hovering at her fingertips. She was a Wielder, I realized.

Her gaze flicked to Ishqa. “You should feel very lucky, now, that your wife has a kinder heart than you do.”

Ishqa only bowed his head. “My words were rash and cruel,” he said. “I apologize, I only—”

“You were speaking the truth as you saw it. I can’t pretend that many others don’t see it the same way.” She glanced to me, and to Caduan. “But I’m glad to see that some of my guests don’t look at my family and see nothing but nature’s mistakes.”

“I—” Ishqa started, but she waved him away.

“I don’t need your apologies.” She turned to Caduan and stepped closer, searching his face.

“You meant your offer,” she said. “Didn’t you?”

Caduan inclined his chin. “I did.”

“If I tell you this, I need your assurance that my home will be protected if the humans come after us.”

“If you tell us what we need,” I said, “the humans won’t be coming after anyone anymore.”

She winced. “I hope that is true.” Then she went to the table in the center of the room and knelt down, producing a piece of parchment from her pocket and unfolding it. The paper was so large that it covered nearly the entire table. It was a map — a very old one, painted in now-faded ink. Near the top, I recognized the Fey lands — the House of Nautilus, the House of Reeds, the House of Roiled Waves. Further north, the boundaries got wobblier and more ill-defined, as if the cartographer knew that there was something there but wasn’t entirely sure what. Towards the center of the map was the island of Niraja. And then further south, there were the human lands, boundaries separating nations that I knew very little about.

“There is a reason,” she said, “why this is all happening right now. The human nations are embroiled in war. I heard only stories, but it sounds as if it might be some of the worst bloodshed they have seen in many years.” She swept her hand over several human nations to the south. “All of these countries are involved. Three large nations are attacking the others, attempting to conquer them. Some of these kingdoms have already fallen. You see, some societies have advanced their use of magic more quickly than others.”

“The return of human magic has shifted the odds,” Ashraia murmured, and Athalena nodded.

“Yes, drastically. Some of these nations were at the mercy of others for centuries, since they had smaller militaries or weaker economies. But now? The power struggle here changed very quickly. Many have lost their homes. And that leaves them with only two hopes. One is to find a new home, one where their conquerors cannot touch them. And the other is to make themselves more powerful than their assailants, and take over once again.”

Make themselves more powerful. That was exactly what Caduan suspected they were doing, when he examined the body of the deformed Fey from the House of Reeds.

“How do you know all of this?” Siobhan asked.

“Some, from our whisperers that still circulate among the human kingdoms. Some, from the traders that pass through. And some…” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was tighter.

“We had visitors, around four months ago. A group of humans seeking refuge after their home was destroyed. We had never accepted so many humans into our walls at once before, but none of us could bear to turn them away. They were here for two weeks before I realized…their intentions were not what they claimed.” She swallowed, eyes going distant — then cleared her throat and gestured to the map. “They attempted to steal this map from us.”

I looked closer at the map. Different nations had different symbols on them. I realized, slowly, that many of the symbols corresponded with nations that had been attacked. The House of Stone. The House of Reeds. Even Yithara.

“What do these mean?” I asked, pointing to the marks that adorned each of those nations.

“Even my husband is several hundred years too young to have ever known the true purpose of this map.” Her brow furrowed. “But myths claim that it marks hidden pools of magic, specific places where it is stronger. Or perhaps, where magical artifacts are hidden. The stories vary.” She shook her head. “To be honest, I suspect that they are all more fiction than fact. But I’m not certain how much that matters. All that matters is that the humans are desperate, and they believe it could be true. Even a sliver of a chance is enough to drive them to…“

“Genocide?” Caduan said, quietly.

And Athalena was so still, so silent, for such a long moment that I wondered if perhaps she wouldn’t answer.

“Heinous things,” she whispered, at last. “Heinous things. The humans that we welcomed into our walls…” Her voice broke. “They murdered one