Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II by Hodges, Aaron (best romance books of all time txt) 📕

“Someone want to explain what happened to my dinner?”

Erika blinked, then glanced at Cara. The Goddess’s eyes widened and she adapted an innocent look. “I think the Archivist ate it,” she said. “Terribly greedy, that one.”

She crossed to the fire and sat herself by the flames. Beyond, the soldiers still sat gaping at her, but Cara ignored them, turning her eyes to Maisie instead.

“If you are going to cook more, though, count me in.” A rumble came from the Goddess’s stomach. “I’m starving.”

19

The Fallen

The light was fading as Yasin directed their ship ashore, the sun dipping towards the mountains towering to the west. Watching the peaks turn scarlet, Romaine couldn’t help but think how strange it was to find himself this side of the mythical mountains. They stretched up overhead, at once the familiar points he had known all his life, yet also different, the stark slopes and escarpments leading to a snowline that was unfamiliar to him.

And how different they were. Where in Calafe, pine and fir trees would have stretched from the river almost to the snow, here in Gemaho the foothills were practically bare, rolling and elongated where those in his homeland were jagged.

Aboard the ship, the sailors hurried to prepare for their disembarking, eager to be rid of Yasin and his soldiers. Throughout the journey, it had become clear their presence did not sit well with all the crew. Romaine couldn’t blame them—just a few days ago, Flumeer had declared war on their kingdom. The queen’s power could only buy so much loyalty. He wondered whether these sailors would report their passage to the king when they reached the next port—or if prudence would win out. After all, every Gemaho sailor on the ship had committed treason by granting them passage. Romaine doubted Nguyen was the kind of king to forgive such a transgression, however hard they might try to redeem themselves.

Shouldering his pack and readjusting the sword on his belt, Romaine followed the others down the gangplank. The weight hung heavy on his shoulders and there was still an ache in his chest, but three days of rest on the ship had helped to ease the pain. His injuries were healing.

Romaine hesitated as he reached the shore, taking a moment to look around. Why had they chosen here to come ashore? There had been no obvious signs of another ship disembarking here, and in the dying light it was impossible to tell whether others had passed this way recently.

He looked up as the crunch of footsteps announced Yasin’s approach. “I won’t be able to track them in the darkness,” Romaine said softly. The moon had been growing larger these last nights, but it would not be enough to find footprints in the rocky earth. “Even if this is the right place…”

Yasin laughed. “Don’t sweat it, Calafe,” he said, slapping Romaine on the shoulder. “I know where we’re going.”

Romaine frowned, but at a gesture from Yasin, the others in their group were already forming up. Anger touched him at being so easily dismissed, but he said nothing. Lorene came alongside him as the leader took his place at the front.

“What do you make of that?” he asked quietly, eyes on the man.

Clenching his fists, one phantom, the other real, Romaine tried to repress his rage. “I told the queen back in camp that Erika would eventually seek out the home of the Gods.” His gaze lifted to the mountains, where the last of the day still lit the icy peaks. “Could she have another copy of the map after all?”

A grimace touched the scout’s face. “You know, I signed up to save a Goddess—not trespass in their homeland.” He hesitated, eyes flickering in Romaine’s direction. “You sure about this, Romaine?”

Romaine sighed. “Amina’s the only one who gives a Fall whether Cara lives,” he said. “I trust her…” He glanced at the smaller man. “I have to.”

The scout hesitated, then gave a quick nod. “Better hurry up then, before they leave us behind.”

Without another word, the two started up the valley after Yasin’s crew. Now that they were off the ship and deep in enemy territory, Romaine had strapped the queen’s shield to his arm and kept his hand close to the pommel of his sword. Each evening when the ship had pulled ashore, he and Lorene had practiced with the blade, and despite his injuries, he was beginning to feel more confident with the weapon. He might be of use to Cara yet.

Even so, he was surprised by how quickly his body began to ache as they started up the valley. The daylong climb through the mountains around the Illmoor Fortress had been a trial in the extreme, the sheer slopes they had scaled to reach the goat track requiring short, sharp bursts of exertion. Here though, the long valleys of Gemaho provided a different kind of challenge. The ground might be less steep, but the slow, endless rise of the earth beneath their feet was no less draining. And the darkness made it all the worse.

Without vegetation to bind the soil, the loose rocks were a constant threat. Thankfully his leather boots protected him from twisting an ankle, but more than once the treacherous stones almost sent him crashing to the ground. Lighter on his feet, Lorene seemed to be having a better time of it, but several amongst Yasin’s men were even larger than Romaine. Their grunts of discomfort kept the two company through the night, but otherwise the soldiers paid them little attention.

Romaine was happy with the silence. He had grown to enjoy it over the last ten years, to welcome the whistling of the wind through branches, to cherish the gentle bubbling of a stream, the hoot of a distant owl. The Perfugians had offered him companionship, a break from the stillness, but in truth he enjoyed it.

Eventually, however, the silence led his mind to thoughts