Bloodsworn by Scott Reintgen

Author:Scott Reintgen [Reintgen, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2021-02-16T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

Grove surrenders quickly.

Our soldiers come grinning through the front gates. I’m soaked to the bone, heart still pounding. It’s the second time the Dread has saved me from dying. The god of caution is not so bold that he walks the city streets with us, but the turtles are enough of a sign. I saw the truth on Darvin’s face, too. He knew he’d been betrayed.

It’s their own damn fault. Forgotten gods are bound to cause trouble.

We count prisoners and start interrogations. Martial’s out in a rowboat with Farian. There are several other pairings navigating the grim waters, collecting the dead or pulling out anyone who’s lucky enough to still be treading water. I’m thankful when Forrest Trask comes thundering over to clap me on the shoulder. He’s got a gash on one arm, but otherwise looks unharmed. “Killing Ashlords out at sea has its perks,” he laughs. “No need to bury them!”

I pretend to smile until another lieutenant pulls me away. Only seven longships survived the attack. All of them are dragged back to the docks. I order the survivors to unload their stock and start setting up skeleton crews. The boats give us another supply route. We’ll have them running north in no time.

I’m too tired to do more than nod as lieutenants make the rest of the arrangements. Sleep has not been restful lately. I have Pippa and her friend to thank for that.

My eyes trace the waves. Darvin is down there somewhere. My hands are so calm now, but I know it could have been me who drowned. Turning away, I follow a group of soldiers back into the city. Sunlight has discolored all the buildings. Centuries of wind and salt have slowly peeled away the paint. It has a certain beauty to it, even if the pale stones are splashed with blood.

A group of my fighters walk ahead—Kenly among them—boasting of their own battles. How many they killed. How close the blades came. I do not speak as I follow them.

We pass the empty doorway of a sacked cathedral. Movement draws my attention. Empty one moment, full the next. A figure looms in front of the shattered glass doors. It’s no surprise.

The Dread.

He is a man this time, thin as an arrow. I can count every rib. The vessel gestures for me to follow. My soldiers walk without so much as a glance back. Behind me, the streets are empty. Always the cautious god. I ascend the marbled steps. The Dread turns and leads me within.

I do not fear him. Why save me one moment to kill me the next? It’s clear he sees me as a useful tool. I see him exactly the same way. It’s getting hard to tell who will come out on top.

“Thank you,” I say. “For intervening.”

The vessel looks back with surprise. “Finally starting to understand?”

I make no reply. Daddy always used to say there’s a big gap between being thankful and being friends. I am not planning to bend the knee, and deep down I think that’s what he wants.

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