Arrow on the String: Solomon Sorrows Book 1 by Dan Fish (no david read aloud TXT) 📕

Silence. Maybe a small laugh. “There’s a door between us.”

“I can still hear you sucking on your teeth. Besides, I’d guess there’s another who I should envy. If I were the envious type.”

“Oh? Who’s that.”

“Maybe a certain Mage Guard Forestwalker. Tall, sun-kissed hair, enough arrogance to rival the gods.”

Davrosh laughed. Loudly.

“Ostev? He’s not my type and I’m not his. Keep guessing.”

“Gods, it isn’t Oray, is it? He’s as old as I am.”

“I respect La’Jen, that’s all. How’s Reishi doing?”

“I’m not done guessing.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Snoring. She’ll sleep soundly. I don’t think Jace will try anything tonight. Not after what we saw in Beggar’s Hollow.”

Davrosh was silent for a spell. “I was thinking about the bodies. The hands, faces, foreheads.”

“Right. You see the pattern,” Sorrows said.

“You know souls. What’s going on?”

“I think it might be Zvilna.”

“Gods, why Zvilna? She was such a sweet thing.”

Sorrows shared the words spoken by the half-born corpse. Where were you? Reishi turned in her bed. Davrosh shifted against the door.

“How?” she asked. “Only the Seph take on bodies. And only humans at that.”

“And the orc.”

“That was still a Seph. I’ve never heard of a gods-born soul possessing a mortal.”

Sorrows sighed. “It’s my own piss-poor guess. I’m still working on it.”

Davrosh snorted. “Gods. I can’t be thinking about this right now. La’Jen’s right. We need to stay focused, work faster. We shouldn’t have gone to Beggar’s Hollow.”

“Do what you will. I need to go back to the Quarry.”

“Alone?”

“Working alone’s just like working together, but without the dead weight.”

“Piss off.”

They didn’t speak for a spell. Sorrows leaned back against the door, stretched his legs out.

Davrosh asked, “What if Jace finds you?”

“I hope she does.”

“You’re no match for a Walker.”

Sorrows thought of the kiss. Thought of Jace’s eyes as she broke away.

“She won’t hurt me.”

“Would you hurt her, I wonder?”

The heart wants what the heart wants.

“When the time comes, I’ll do what I need to.”

“I can’t stop you, but I’m not going along this time.”

“I won’t ask you to.”

“We need to catch Jace.”

“We will.”

The night passed, and the morning woke with clouds and coffee. Reishi thanked Sorrows for watching over her, then whispered an apology for her behavior. He smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and wished her well. He and Davrosh left, taking a sled back to the tower.

They were through the fifth night. They had two days left until Nisha Davrosh.

Chapter 37

YOU UNDERESTIMATED THE Mage Guard and the human. They set their traps; they lay in wait. They plan and strategize. They’ve learned much about you. Almost everything. It is flattery. It is assurance. The gods will have no choice but to welcome you as one of their own. Not when you manage death amidst this much adversity. They will no longer deny your mastery. And of course, if they do, you are not without your own leverage.

You have ascertained the dagger’s purpose. You know what the gods truly seek. It is the reason they showed you the wire. A slow first death which influences the second. It is the true aim of your mastery. The gods were not interested in the killing. It was about the souls. The souls of dwarves, still tethered to their gods. Strong, powerful. Stronger than those of the humans, who’d orphaned themselves. And centuries ago, the souls of humans were enough to drive back the Seraseph when they landed on the eastern shores of the kingdom. Back when they walked with their own feet in the sand, feigning surrender but wielding destruction. The history has been all but lost to time, but you know it. You found it during your studies. Your patient turning of ancient pages. You sought knowledge for your mastery, but you found many other things besides. Hidden things, dark and best left secret. They taught you what elves were capable of. They taught that sacrifices must be made for the greater good. It was in that box of scrolls, all but hidden in the bowels of Hammerfell Tower, where you learned of your heritage. It was with those faded words that you embraced your purpose and strengthened your resolve.

The same resolve which will demand the gods recognize you as one of their own. Because the time of harvest has arrived. The gods have sewn their seeds and spread their bonds across the kingdom. Now they look to end the Seraseph abomination once and for all. Weapons will be imbued as they were long ago. Ships will sail. Lands will be invaded. Battles will be won. But first, a harvest. And for that, they will need you. The scythe swinging in the field. The harvester. The killing god.

✽✽✽

ORAY SLAMMED BOTH palms on the polished stone table, stood from his chair, glared at Davrosh. The wolf was in his eyes, rabid, baring its fangs. Wrinkles like war paint.

“You did what?” he asked.

Sorrows wasn’t one to envy. Not normally. But he envied Davrosh her proximity to Oray. She was close enough to stretch across the table and send a closed fist hard into his face. Which is precisely what Sorrows wanted to do at that moment.

“Stop being an orchole, Oray,” he said. “We watched you. You opened, what, six doors? We kept going. Finished the job. Nineteen victims. You’ve got a problem brewing. You should be thanking us.”

“Thanking you?” Oray asked.

Each syllable cracked like a whip. Davrosh turned to Sorrows, shook her head. Her eyes were wide; emeralds set in pearls, or holly leaves in snow. Her face said, Would you splitting shut up. But Sorrows found her face easy to ignore.

“If anything, you and Ga’Shel should sit tight in the tower,” Sorrows said. “Sunshine can’t stomach the sight of blood, and you’ve clearly got too much on your plate. You’re an overseer, for gods’ sakes. Let Davrosh and me handle this one.”

Oray closed his eyes, looked down. Davrosh swallowed and leaned back in her chair, tried to put space between her and Oray. Ga’Shel hid a smile and quiet laugh behind his hand. Sorrows caught his