God of Ash by Sabrina Flynn

Author:Sabrina Flynn [Flynn, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781955207256
Publisher: Ink & Sea Publishing

Chapter 38

Stars shone in the pool of night overhead, but Marsais felt no wonder as he gazed at the heavens. He was tired. And weak with grief.

Isiilde had finally drifted off to sleep. Rage had rippled off her in waves. Despite all his careful plotting, she had defied her nature, and appeared on deck.

She was on the verge of slipping down a dark path. He did not know what to do.

He searched the stars for portents, a whisper of what was to come, but all was silent. For now.

The Fomorri might attack at dawn. Or not. They liked to torture their prey—mentally and physically. But he couldn’t wait. He had little time left. His mind was crumbling, and he needed to know why.

Marsais idly rubbed the coins threaded through his goatee. Their song soothed his thoughts. There was little choice left to him: he could wait to die, or walk towards his death.

This might be his last chance.

Feeling his age, he climbed to his feet and limped across the grotto, aware of the sentries watching him from the shadows. When he disappeared between the shrubs and rocks, the sentries lost interest.

A pair of boulders offered some privacy. He began weaving, layering one rune over the other, creating an orb of drifting threads.

When the weave took shape, he stepped into a space between time; the pause between up and down, right and left, the catch in a breath. Neither light nor dark, only the vague in-between. It was nowhere and everywhere, and he paced restlessly.

Another figure, cowled in a gleaming white robe, joined him in the space. The new arrival lifted his hands. His fingers were long and fine: a musician’s hands. He pushed back his cowl. The Guardian of Life resembled the dark mahogany statues that littered the realm in his honor.

“You look like you’ve climbed out of the Pits o’Mourn,” Chaim said.

Marsais glanced down at himself. Unfortunately, the state of his mind reflected his appearance: battered and bloodied.

“Aren’t you full of compliments.” He ran a hand over his hair, sweeping it back, and noticed the lines creasing the god’s brow. “I take it the war in Somnial’s Realm is not going well?”

“No,” Chaim sighed. “An upstart tried to take the Dreaming God’s throne. There’s a civil war within a war raging now. Nightmares have been running rampant. I pity the children.”

The word nightmare triggered a thought. “The ol’River was raided.”

“Yes,” the god whispered. “But how did you know? Did you have a vision?”

“Hmm, more like a logical conclusion based on pieces of an unknown puzzle, which I do not yet fully understand.”

Chaim opened his mouth, but Marsais interrupted. He was not ready to discuss the how or why. “Have you received word from Bram and Evie?”

“I have,” Chaim said. “Tharios released the Fey. The Isle was obscured by an unnatural fog that delayed their arrival.”

“The entire island?” he asked in surprise. “Why weren’t the castle wards activated?”

“According to Evie, there are holes in the shield—frayed edges. The Fey seeped through the cracks.

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