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

She had spent so long on her peninsula in the south where it was always tropical and warm that every time she came up to the capitol or to Aon’s estate, she always found herself shivering. And traveling up to the far north to visit Evie was an adventure in cold and misery. It was a good thing her best friend loved coming down to the peninsula to lie around on the beach.

Even if it was less sunny than the ones back home on Earth.

Now and then, Lydia missed the sun. But the one time she had seen it rise on Under had made her learn to never, ever want to see it again.

“The poles have shifted.”

Lydia looked up to Aon. The firelight was glinting off the perfectly smooth surface of his mask. Even for as long as they had been together, she would never stop being impressed at how eerie and impressive the man could look without trying. “Excuse me?”

“The poles. They have shifted.” He tossed the compass to her.

She caught it and, flicking it open, looked at the needle.

“This room faces magnetic north. The table runs north and south along that line.”

Lining up the compass with the table, she looked down at the needle. It was pointing a good twenty degrees to the left. “Whoa…that’s…that can’t be good. What does it mean?”

“It means the size of our world has changed. It means that…I believe it has grown.”

“How do you know? It won’t be the first time our world has shrunk.” Navaa walked to the bar by the wall to pour himself a drink.

“With the yellow moon in the sky, and the disruption of our magic, I have all the proof I need. Besides, if our world had shrunk, we would be twenty degrees off in the other direction, wouldn’t we?”

“I…guess.” Navaa sipped his drink.

“What’s more is that I can sense the change. I am linked to the Ancients in a way that you can never be. Not only has our world grown, not only do we have a new moon…but we have a new royal as well. I would wager my life that there is now an eighth house.”

Lydia groaned. She knew better than to argue against Aon’s hunches. He was almost always right. “Fuck.”

Aon’s hand tightened on the mantel. “The question only remains…who is this new king or queen, and how, precisely, do they intend to kill us all?”

She went silent for a long moment. She wanted to argue that the addition of a new royal didn’t mean that they were out to kill everyone. It didn’t mean that there was going to be tragedy and ruin on the horizon for all of Under.

But she knew that wasn’t true. She knew it was just hopeful thinking.

She had long learned that, in Under, one should always expect the worst.

Because chances were, it was worse than that.

Instead, she shut the compass and stood. “What do we do?”

Aon finally turned from the fire. “We prepare for war.”

16

Lyon wasn’t much of a talker, Ember decided.

They had been riding for an hour, and he had yet to say anything to her.

It seemed like kind of a waste to be in someone’s company and not talk. She had spent two and a half years in almost total silence with no one to talk to, nothing except the sounds of the world around her to keep her company.

All she could hear was the quiet thuds of hooves and the chirping and buzzing of insects in the shrubs and trees. The occasional sound of a larger animal broke into the pattern, the sound of creatures Ember didn’t recognize.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“Hm?” Lyon looked as though she had broken him out of his thoughts. “Excuse me?”

“Tell me about yourself.” She laughed.

“I’m afraid I’m not quite sure what it is you’re asking me.” His forehead creased in confusion as he pondered the question.

“I’m asking you to tell me about yourself. Your life. Who you are. You’ve lived so long, there must be something to know about you.” She couldn’t help but grin at the man. He looked so puzzled. “It really isn’t that hard of a question.”

“Perhaps you should give me an example, then.” He smiled back at her warmly. “And go first.”

“Not much to say, really.” Ember shrugged and looked off into the woods. It was dark. But it was always dark in Under. She wondered idly what time it was, and then remembered she had a way to check. She pulled the pocket watch that Maverick had gifted her out of her bag and smiled down at it. She ran her thumb along the edge of the brass and flicked it open. It was noon. Or midnight.

Guess it didn’t help to have a clock.

Damn it.

“I don’t believe that for a moment.” Lyon nudged his horse closer to hers. “You are a warrior from a world consumed by a plague.”

“I can tell you about Gioll. I can tell you about the world that is now dead.” She fished a necklace out from under her shirt. It was the sigil of the Grandfather. Honestly, she wasn’t sure why she still wore it. It was futile.

But that was who she was, wasn’t it?

Futile.

Her heart sank. “In my world, certain infants are chosen to become hunters—to join a hopeless cause. Since before I knew my own name, that was my destiny. I prayed to gods who were likely already gone. I fought in a war that was already lost. I tended to the living who were already as good as dead.”

Lyon was silent for a long time. “I do not see in you a woman who has given up. I have heard you pray for the fallen ones. I saw you fight them in the street. That is not a woman who has surrendered.”

“I have failed enough in my life. I will not lie down and die, even if it’s inevitable. That isn’t who I am.”

“How have you failed,