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

And there before us, at long last, were the Towers.

Chapter Two

Max

There was a time when the sight of the Towers was comforting to me. Beyond comforting, actually — it had been inspiring. I had been amazed by their strength, their beauty, the ceaseless stability they represented. How fitting, I would think, that they were visible for so many miles. They were a beacon calling across the land and the sea, signaling constant truth. Just like the Orders themselves.

I had never believed in anything with such unwavering conviction.

I never would again.

Now, I frowned as I watched the Towers come into view. We were still several hours of travel time away from shore, but they were the first piece of Ara to appear, two columns of light rising into the sky and disappearing into misty fog. The Threllians gasped and grinned and pointed.

I could almost see another image superimposed over this one. The image of Tisaanah, before I had met her, clinging to the rail of a ship just like this, her back destroyed and her body raging with fever, utterly alone. She had probably looked at this same view and been overcome with relief — relief — because she was so certain the Orders would save us all. Instead, they’d strip us for parts until there was nothing left to take.

Where I’d once seen strength and certainty, I now saw grotesque monuments to broken promises. Two middle fingers raised towards the sky.

Well, fuck them too.

She was beside Serel. He looked out to the horizon with the same bright-eyed hope as the others. But Tisaanah’s stare was a little harder, a little colder. There was a little serious turn at the corner of her mouth.

I wondered if she was thinking of a plan. Tisaanah loved plans.

Me? I craved the certainty of a known factor and yet acted almost entirely on impulse. My impulses were screaming at me now, though to do what, I wasn’t sure.

“I’m looking forward to getting off of this boat,” Sammerin muttered. He leaned on the rail with elegant carelessness, even though I was almost certain he was actively trying not to vomit. “Solid ground will feel…good.”

“Not sure if it will feel good enough to make up for whatever’s waiting for us once we get there.”

“Mm.” Sammerin made a noncommittal noise. But he drew in a deep breath through his pipe and let it out through his teeth, sending smoke unfurling into the wind. He only smoked when he was nervous. That breath said more than his words ever would.

I wished I was as good at hiding my anxieties. As much as I despised sea travel, there was a certain appeal to the time we had here, suspended on this boat. I didn’t need to understand Thereni to understand the Threllians’ hope and excitement. And for a few days, it was easy to get lost in it, too — especially as I watched Tisaanah. She looked at Serel as if she was never completely sure he was real. There was an euphoric delight to their interactions, like they were both so breathlessly thrilled to see each other again.

It was nice. It made everything else feel as if it had been worth it. Because anything would have been worth it, to see her like this — to see her happy.

Even if I could feel the shadow looming.

I glanced over to Nura, lingering near Eslyn and Ariadnea, who looked abjectly miserable. Syrizen might be inherently unnerving — that eyeless stare just cut straight through you — but I found Nura’s silence to be infinitely more foreboding. She had barely spoken during this trip. And yet, I knew her well enough to read the hard lines of anticipation in the way she looked towards Ara every day.

“Will you fight?” Sammerin asked. “In Sesri’s war, with Tisaanah?”

“I’m certainly not going to let her fight it alone.”

My answer was easy, quick. Still, it would be a lie to say the idea didn’t make my palms sweat. It was one thing to cut down slavers. Another to raise my weapon against people who just happened to follow a different leader than I did. The last war left enough marks on me. I knew too well how high the price was, and all for so little.

“I’ll stay with her,” I said, firmly, as if to myself. “But that’s all. It’s about her, not about them.”

Sammerin let out another puff of smoke. The Ryvenai War had torn him up, too, even if he was better at hiding the scars than I would ever be. He had grown quieter over these last few days. It was a different silence than his usual, leaden not with thoughtfulness but with nervousness.

“You know,” I said, “I’m sure we could find someone else. If you wanted to return to your practice when we got back.”

I said it casually, but Sammerin gave me a look that cut through my manufactured carelessness.

“You couldn’t find anyone as good.” He gave Tisaanah a brief glance, one dark enough that I knew he wasn’t looking at her so much as what lurked hidden inside of her. “And I don’t trust anyone else to control that thing. Even though I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

A lump rose in my throat. I hated that I was relieved. Because I didn’t know if I trusted anyone else to do what Sammerin could, either. The strength of his magic — mastery of flesh — made him one of the very rare individuals who could force Tisaanah down if Reshaye got out of control. And the strength of his character made him the only person in the world that I trusted to do it.

He hadn’t been there, the day that Nura had forced my mind open and decimated an entire city. And he hadn’t been there the day that Reshaye used my hands to murder my family.

And even if he never would say it aloud, I knew that he carried that weight.

There was nothing