Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II, Hodges, Aaron [top 10 non fiction books of all time txt] 📗

be seen amongst the metallic fibres, though she had not unleashed its power in days. Was there some danger to that glow, some effect of the magic she did not understand? Regardless, she needed it now. It was her only protection should the queen’s killers come for her.

Her heart twisted as she turned her thoughts to Cara. How badly she had repaid her friend’s kindness, to allow her to be imprisoned, locked away like a common criminal. Teeth clenched, she lurched from the bed and threw on a tunic and coat, then boots. It was time she began making up for her mistakes.

Erika was just starting for the door when it swung open. A lantern carved the darkness and she raised a hand and squinted against its brilliance.

“Oh good, you’re up,” came Maisie’s voice from the doorway. “Grab your things, the king wants us away before dawn.”

“What are you talking about?” Erika gasped.

“We’re leaving,” Maisie replied, as though it made perfect sense. She turned away as Erika’s vision began to adjust to the light.

“What?” Erika repeated. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked around the room, but her only possession was a small day pack. Scooping it up, she followed the spy out into the corridor. There, though, she hesitated. “What about Cara?” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know the Goddess is no longer locked in that cell.”

Maisie paused at that, one eyebrow arcing towards her fringe. “Oh, so now you’ve developed a conscience, have you?” She chuckled and swung away. “Don’t worry about it, Cara is coming with us.”

Erika opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d already made herself look ignorant enough. Recovering her composure, she strode after the Gemaho woman. A cocoon of light spread out from the lantern Maisie held, shielding them from the night’s darkness, though Erika caught glimpses of the approaching dawn through the windows they passed.

“So where are we going?” she asked finally.

“Here,” Maisie replied, pressing a steel tube into her hands without breaking stride. “We’re going to the home of your Gods.”

Distracted by the object she’d been handed, Erika didn’t immediately understand the significance of the spy’s words. Removing the top of the tube, she drew out an aged piece of paper, before quickly replacing it in the protective cylinder. She didn’t need to unfurl it to know what it was—the map she had recovered, the one she’d given to the king…

“Wait, what did you say—”

Erika’s words were cut off as her foot caught on a wrinkle in the carpet. Crying out, she lurched forward, arms windmilling, until a hand from Maisie settled her upright once more. Cursing, she looked at the woman.

“You can’t be serious?” she gasped, abandoning all attempts at keeping her cool.

The spy laughed and continued down the corridor. Erika hurried to catch up. It wasn’t like she hadn’t considered the idea. Ever since she’d seen that distant star marked in the Mountains of the Gods, she had wondered. But it was forbidden to enter those mountains. Now that they knew the Gods truly dwelled there, what they were capable of, surely such an expedition was suicide.

“Can’t say I’m too thrilled with the plan,” Maisie said matter-of-factly as they turned down a set of stairs that led towards the river, “but Nguyen is serious, and therefore, so am I.”

The stairwell opened out onto a series of berths nestled in the space behind the bridge wall. Several ships of varying sizes were currently docked, though at this hour the only movement came from a large galley further down the jetty. Beyond, Erika glimpsed an arcing dike of boulders that stretched out into the river, sheltering the port from the currents.

“Maisie, Erika, I’m glad you made it,” Nguyen greeted as they approached the vessel.

Erika came to a stop alongside the king. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she glanced at the ship the man had prepared for them. It looked much the same as the galley that had once taken her across the Illmoor to Calafe, though the mast currently bore no sail. With the wind blowing down the canyon from Gemaho, the sailors would have to use the oars until they passed beyond the sheer cliffs.

From there she could imagine the path they would take from the map she held in her hand—sail south through the plateaus until they reached the valley that would lead them up into the icy peaks, up to the ancient site marked by a scarlet star. It was madness, though…Erika couldn’t help but feel a thrill of exhilaration. What fresh wonders must await in the home of the Gods themselves?

“Excited, Princess?” the king asked, though his eyes were on the preparations.

Erika swallowed. “I’m…not sure we’ll be greeted warmly,” she replied.

“No, I imagine not. These Anahera have distanced themselves from human civilisation for centuries. They are unlikely to welcome uninvited guests.”

“Then why…” Erika trailed off as she glimpsed a new figure approaching along the jetty.

Cara still wore iron manacles on her wrists and ankles, but it looked like she’d at least been allowed to bathe and change her clothes. A heavy cloak of wolf fur hung around her shoulders, concealing her wings, and her copper hair had been tied back in a ponytail. She also still wore her familiar scowl, and a troop of some twenty soldiers followed behind, swords and spears held at the ready. Apparently they had been told to treat this prisoner with extreme caution.

“Welcome, Your Divinity,” the king said, adopting a cheerful smile. “I trust the facilities were to your liking?”

Cara’s scowl deepened as she stopped before them. “Where were all the ‘Your Divinities’ when you had me thrown in your dungeon?”

“Ancient history,” the king replied, dismissing the complaint.

“It was happening up until an hour ago.”

“Yes, well,” the king continued, apparently unperturbed. “I do hope that we might put the past behind us.”

The Goddess folded her arms—or as best as she could with the heavy manacles. “How about I knock you out first and stuff you