Godsgrave

“HELLO, ASHLINN,” he said.

“’Byss and blood,” she breathed.

The darkness closing in.

“… Tric?”

“But no matter. I have the beloved teacher. And now I have the beloved. And cold as she is, I think not even my daughter would harm her own brother.”

The floor dropped away from beneath Ashlinn’s feet.

“… Daughter?”

“If we wanted you dead, you’d have been so long ago,” Consul Scaeva said. “So please, sit before we are forced to resort to … unpleasantness.”

Julius Scaeva, the People’s Senator, the man who had bested the Kingmakers and rescued Itreya from calamity, had been assassinated.

“THE MANY WERE ONE.”

“Crow! Crow! Crow! Crow!”

“AND WILL BE AGAIN.”

“You can’t wash your hands clean with more blood, Furian,”

“Because the voices in your head that say otherwise are just fear talking. Never listen to fear.”

The girl smiled, turned her eyes back to the open road.

“Fear is a coward.”

“Conquer your fear,” she whispered, “and you can conquer the world.”

“… those who do not fear the flame are burned. those who do not fear the blade are bled. and those who do not fear the grave…”

“Our scars are just gifts from our enemies,” Ashlinn whispered into her mouth. “Reminding us they weren’t good enough to kill us.”