“Your Grace,” Andia said quietly, “the Council awaits your decision.”
“Give me a moment, Andia,” Cova said. This was not a decision she wanted to make lightly. But the chance to exact revenge on the nation that had oppressed them for decades was too clear.
Then, Cova Amok stood. The members of the Ruling Council turned to face her, as did every other eye in the overflowing council chamber. Cova counted three empty chairs. Word of the happenings in Khale had spread quickly.
“In light of recent events,” Cova began, “I have come to a decision. The tiellan rebellion in Khale has changed things. While I do not necessarily agree with the logic, I know many of you would say that this was why our ancestors exiled the race from our empire completely. Whatever you believe, one thing is clear. The tiellans have provided us with an opportunity.”
“What of the tiellans themselves?” Arstan Dagnatar, Roden’s merchant leader, asked. “Would they not present as much an obstacle for us as they do for Khale? We are the ones that murdered and banished their kind, after all. One would think their rage against Roden would be greater.”
“The tiellans’ focus is upon their own home; they will direct their wrath at Triah. We must attack while our enemy is divided, and fighting itself. The tiellans will be crushed by Khale eventually, and Khale, weakened from the fight, will fall to us.”
“And the tiellan commander?” the high priestess asked. “Is that… is that the tiellan woman that your father held in custody here?”
You mean to ask whether, by releasing her, I caused this tiellan rebellion.
“I imagine we will soon find out. We have discussed a campaign against Khale for many years, now, but the time has never been right. Now, the tiellans have made the time right for us.
“We will rally our banners; we will call upon Andrinar and the Island Coalition to add their might to ours.
“We will take our ships, and sail to Triah itself. We will strike at the heart of the Khalic nation, and do what so many of our ancestors wished they could have done.
“We will conquer the greatest nation, and the greatest city, on the Sfaera.”
Baetrissa’s Cathedral, Mavenil
Funerals are always a bleak business, Alain thought. Especially when it’s the funeral of someone close to you. Someone you thought, one day, you might love. Someone you thought might love you back.
He stood in the back of Baetrissa’s Cathedral, despite his misgivings. The coffin was simple, dark wood. The pews were filled to overflowing. Outside the chapel, more people crowded around and back into the streets of Mavenil. Alain suspected this was one of the largest funerals in the history of Maven Kol.
The Cantic high priestess lit a candle at the shrine, then took her place at the pulpit, throwing back the hood of her robe.
“We gather here together,” she said, her voice low and carrying, “to mourn the passing of a soul who knew the meaning of sacrifice. We mourn our great king, Gainil Destrinar-Kol, and celebrate his life and reign.”
Alain smiled, turned, and walked out of the cathedral. He did not need to be here for this. He’d made his peace with Gainil.
Heedless of the stares and judging looks, he wove through the crowd on the street, pushing his way back and, eventually, out of the city.
She was waiting for him outside the city gates.
“Didn’t want to stay ’til the end?” Morayne asked. She didn’t smile. Her throat still bore the angry red marks of Lailana’s grip, the pain of it etched clearly on her face. Recovery would be a long time coming.
“I’ve never liked endings. You gave my letter to Sev?”
She nodded, lifting a pack at her feet and handing it to him. “I did. You’ve officially resigned the kingship and given power to the Denizens. You are now the second king in history to give up his crown.”
Alain took his pack, hefting it by the straps. Heavy, and solid. He liked the feel of it.
“It won’t be easy for the Denizens, at first. It may never be easy for them. Many nobles will resist. Some of the commoners won’t want the responsibility. Blood will still be shed.”
“It will,” Morayne said. “But it’s the right thing to do.”
Alain was about to slip the pack over his shoulders when Morayne stopped him. “We have a long journey ahead of us,” she said. “And a lot of work to do.”
“True,” Alain said. He looked into her eyes. “We’ll probably never finish. We can seek all the Triggers we want, but we’ll never find them all. And the ones we do… who knows whether we can even help them?” It would be as impossible as pouring the desert sands into a glass. And yet, this time, Alain embraced the impossibility of it.
“We can start, one person at a time,” Morayne said. “Brother Maddagon’s work will go beyond him, and then beyond us.”
Take what you’ve learned, what you are, and share that with others.
Alain had a thought. “I’m broken,” he said quietly.
Morayne snorted. “Tell me about it.”
“I’m broken,” Alain repeated, “and that’s all right.”
This time she met his eyes. “I know. So am I. And that’s all right.”
Alain smiled. Bloody bones, it felt good to say that out loud.
He tried to slip his pack on again, but once more, she stopped him.
“What?” he asked.
“We have a long journey ahead of us,” she repeated. “We should probably stretch before we begin.”
That brought a smile to Alain’s lips, and joy to his heart.
Alain leaned down and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, and they stood there for a moment, fitting together perfectly.
“Now we can go,” she said, picking up her own pack.
Alain finally slipped his over his shoulders, the weight heavy but bearable, the smile still on his face.
The flames were still there, in the back of his mind. Panic still simmered in his gut. But he did not worry about them anymore. He still could not handle them; he’d never been able to do that. But there was something greater out there that could.
Morayne still did not return his smile. Not yet. But, he’d decided, that was his life’s mission. To see that third smile. And the fourth. And the fifth and sixth, and so on, into the rest of their lives.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHRISTOPHER HUSBERG GREW UP in Eagle River, Alaska. He now lives in Utah, and spends his time writing, reading, hiking, and playing video games, but mostly hanging out with his wife, Rachel, and daughter, Buffy. He received an MFA in creative writing from Brigham Young University, and an honorary PhD in Buffy the Vampire Slayer from himself. The first novel in the Chaos Queen Quintet, Duskfall, was published in 2016.
www.christopherhusberg.com
@usbergo
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FIRST OF ALL, I owe a big thank you to Sam Matthews for going through the editorial process with me on this book. She did phenomenal work, and this book would not be what it is without her. Thank you as well to the whole team at Titan for putting together these books.
As always, thank you to Sam Morgan for being the agent I deserve, not the agent I want. (Just kidding, Sam! I love you and I want you and don’t ever leave meeeeeeee!) Seriously, though, you’re the best agent I could imagine. You’re like… the platonic ideal of an agent. What, now I’m laying it on too thick? Fine. Look, Sam, you’re an amazing agent and a great friend. I’m grateful to know you. That’s truth.
Thanks to my writing group, “Accidental Erotica” (it’s a thing, we have T-shirts), for being awesome and for offering incredible feedback. I’m so grateful to have a space where I can get together with writers and talk about writing and I get to do that with you all and I love that. And, of course, a HUGE thank you to Janci Patterson for her feedback and input with this book. Janci, you’re a brilliant writer and I’m grateful to be your friend.
I must also thank Dave Butler, a man touched by the genius of Edward M. Kovel himself, for tag-teaming i
t with me across the western states, hosting an awesome writing retreat, writing good books, and being a fantastic friend. (Are you noticing a trend of good friends, here? I’m a fortunate guy.)
A quick throwback shoutout: thank you to Steve and Kristi—may your basement forever be known as the place in which Duskfall became a book! I love you both.
Thank you to my amazingly supportive family and friends. A special thank you to Camille for being an incredible nanny to my daughter, Buffy.
Speaking of whom, thank you, Buffy, for being you. I love every moment watching you (and, on occasion, helping you) grow up. You are a bright light in my life.
And, always, thank you to Rachel for being an incredible support, my love, my life, my best friend. We’re awesome, aren’t we?
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM TITAN BOOKS
DUSKFALL
THE CHAOS QUEEN QUINTET
Christopher Husberg
Pulled from a frozen sea, pierced by arrows and close to death, Knot has no memory of who he was. But his dreams are dark, filled with violence and unknown faces. Winter, a tiellan woman whose people have long been oppressed by humans, is married to and abandoned by Knot on the same day. In her search for him, she will discover her control of magic, but risk losing herself utterly. And Cinzia, priestess and true believer, returns home to discover her family at the heart of a heretical rebellion. A rebellion that only the Inquisition can crush…
Their fates and those of others will intertwine, in a land where magic and daemons are believed dead, but dark forces still vie for power.
“A delicious mix of Jason Bourne, dark fantasy, and horror. The kind of debut that has me thrilled for the future of fantasy.”
Steve Diamond, author of Residue
“A fascinating mystery that slowly unfolds, and cultures and religions in conflict. Enjoy.”
Melinda Snodgrass, author of The Edge of Reason
TITANBOOKS.COM
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