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Chapter 8

“We go to war,” Osricsaid with finality, and every head nodded as my brother stalked back to me.

The men he had fought, the representatives from the other Congregations, got up slowly from the clearing.

They were alive, at least.

For that they should be lucky.

Lucky that the Prophet hadn’t been here to order Rhyder to kill them. Or maim them.

Eli got out his walkie-talkie, and it crackled as he sent orders to bring someone up.

“The Allfather has spoken!” Rhyder called, spreading his arms, and I felt a thrill of vulgar pride in seeing his strength as I sat in the chair, still limp and boneless from my release. “We will gain the Gardens for ourselves and this is how we will do it.”

I felt the decadence of his power on my tongue.

Then it looked like there was an Unsaved man there, being guided into the camp, a man with messy brown hair and a beard, dressed in khakis and a button-up shirt instead of the usual garb of the male Congregants—jeans or work pants, with sweatshirts or leather jackets.

“Show us what you have,” Eli ordered, and I stifled a gasp as the Unsaved man placed a large case on the table and opened it.

Drones.

I had only seen much smaller ones in the cities, the little whirring airborne machines that delivered mail or food.

The first time I had seen them they had frightened me very badly because I was taught that the only things that flew were supernatural entities like angels or demons.

It had taken me a long time to get used to seeing the small airborne machines frequently in the city.

But these drones were all big, battle-scarred ones, heavy gunmetal bodies with powerful tips that could shoot out darts or bullets.

I had heard rumors that Unsaved were trying to develop new weaponry to battle back against the much stronger Congregations.

“I always thought it was against your religion to involve. . . us in your holy wars,” the Unsaved man said. “What made you change your mind?”

“It’s wrong to involve Unsaved,” Eli said, “But these? These are tools given to us by the Allfather to triumph over Apostates and others who would defile the name of the Allfather.”

“Verse 13012,” Rhyder said, his voice a low rumble. “Avenging angels deliver those who are righteous.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Osric asked. “We have had a tentative truce with their Congregation for over a decade now since Jonas consolidated power. If Ronan finds out we helped you, we might be in danger. He controls every waterway in this whole gotdamn region.”