Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

They mistook her for one of them. Why? Oh. The kohl on my face. She touched her cheek. She wore the mark most of her life. She forgot about it sometimes.

“Miss Ember?”

It was only when she glanced at Lyon and noticed the concern in his voice that she realized she was crying. With shaking hands, she wiped at her tears. “Sorry. I’m all right.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…I’ve never seen a city so alive. I didn’t even realize this was possible anymore. It’s like the stories of our world before the Dread God came.” She smiled weakly.

“Dread God?”

“My world, Gioll, was once thriving and alive like this one.” She wiped at her eye again, trying not to smudge the kohl line that ran from one of her cheeks, over her nose, and to the other. “Until eighty years ago, when the Dread God came. It brought the plague that turned the dead upon the living, and the civilizations of Gioll collapsed.”

“I see…” He gestured for her to keep walking with him as they made their way along the sidewalk. “Please, continue.”

“We weren’t prepared. We tried to fight, but…every one of us they killed, they just added to their ranks. Drengil are mindless creatures. They only know one thing—the need to eat the flesh of the living.”

“Drengil?”

“That is what we call them. The corpses that kill to consume.”

“Hm.” Lyon paused for a long moment. “We have words for such creatures in our languages as well. And your world was overrun?”

Ember nodded. She thumbed the largest amulet in her collection of necklaces. “The old gods, long forgotten, rose up to fight the threat. But they weren’t strong enough. By the time I was born, almost all of the cities of the old world were gone. Nothing more than ruins, and rust, and rubble. The survivors were packed into citadels or sanctuary towns, fighting to survive.”

“Those necklaces of yours, they are tribute to your gods?”

“Yes. I live my life in service to them.”

Lyon’s forehead creased again in worry.

“What?”

And just as quickly, he smoothed his expression back to a placid one. “Nothing.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

He smirked. “Very well. I was considering the fact that you and I seem to have something in common—faith to the gods. And that it is rather auspicious that you find yourself inside the largest cathedral in the world dedicated to mine.”

“Do you think your Ancients have anything to do with my being here?”

“I believe they have everything to do with it. Why, and to what ends, remains to be seen.” Lyon sighed.

They passed another food vendor, and Ember stopped and stared again. The man was putting together sandwiches. Everything looked so damn good, she couldn’t help it.

Lyon paused beside her. “When was the last time you have eaten a proper meal, Miss Ember?”

“Two days? Roast squirrel. Wasn’t bad.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Let me get you some real food. Something more than a few cookies, and the one you have hidden in your bag that you thought I didn’t notice you taking on the way out.” His eyes glittered in amusement as he smiled at her.

“I—but—I didn’t—” She tried to uselessly deny the truth, but he was already walking away from her toward the vendor. He fished through his pocket, removed a few slips of paper from a small leather holder, and handed it to the man across the counter. The man seemed to recognize Lyon. The vendor quickly bowed.

He’s a king, she reminded herself. Whatever that really means here. Stunned, she could only stare dumbly as Lyon walked back to her and held out a sandwich.

“Go on, dear.”

Her mouth was watering. She was hungry—she was always hungry. It was just a normal state of being for her. She couldn’t even identify half of what was squished between the two slices of bread. Bread! She hadn’t had that since she left the citadel. Gingerly, she took it from him.

“You’re meant to eat it, you know.”

Shooting him a glare, she smirked. “Yes, yes, very funny.”

He was smiling at her with a shocking amount of warmth. She took a step away from him. Not because she was frightened, but because she wasn’t. Trust no one. Another lesson from Ash. One that she never had to practice much as an outcast.

He seemed unoffended, at least. “Very well, save it for later.” He gestured and resumed their path through the streets. “I do not want to dawdle much longer. Forgive me, but I am eager to speak to Queen Ini, our Queen of Fate. Her purview is over secret things and whispers of the future.”

“Each of you represents something? Each of the seven houses?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you represent?”

“The House of Blood.”

Ember walked a few more feet away from him.

Lyon paused to look at her, blinked for a moment, then chuckled. “Ah. Yes. That might sound foreboding. I assure you it is not a threat.”

“I really don’t think I believe you.”

“I think you do. Or else you likely would have run off or stabbed me. Again.”

All right, that deserved a laugh. “Okay. Tell me how ‘the House of Blood’ isn’t terrible.”

Lyon smiled. “My house is titled House of Blood for two reasons. The first is that the Ancients slumber in a pool beneath the Cathedral. A large underground lake that is filled with their blood.”

“That sounds…disgusting.”

“Their blood is not like ours.”

“I guess that makes sense for gods.” She shook her head. “And the second reason?”

“That those in my house, including myself, drink blood for sustenance.”

Now she had her knife drawn, holding it out toward Lyon. “That makes the name worse, not better. Much worse.”

Lyon held his hands up once more in a show of harmlessness. He said he could kill me. I don’t think he needs a weapon to do it. “My kind does not feed mindlessly. You are in no danger—”

“You drink blood! You said so yourself!”

“Yes, and if I wished to drink yours, I would have. Any of those in my home would have. We pick only willing partners.”

“Bullshit! No