Page 17 of Brimstone

My friend nodded, rubbing at his jaw. “Yeah. Right. Okay. That wasn’texactlyhow we’d hoped the ceremony would playout. But honestly, who cares about Ereth? They’ll have a quorum and replace the bastard. I want to know about you getting dosed. Did you tear her clothes off in front of everyone?”

I clenched my jaw, blowing out a hard exhale. “No, I did not tear her clothes off. She barely even got me. As soon as I realized what she was doing, I told her to drink, and then—” But I was remembering the heat of her venom in my veins and my head was starting to spin out again. “Look, let’s focus. I just had to ride out from Ammontraíeth on horseback, and then I had to skate halfway across the fucking Darn before I had access to my magic. How am I supposed to protect her properly if I can’t create a godscursed portal?”

Ren had some color in his cheeks. That was good to see. Ever since we’d moved Layne to the East Wing at Cahlish, his mood had been a little more upbeat. My sister had opened her eyes yesterday, which was small progress, yes, but it was progress nonetheless. He’d always been protective of my half sister. Even when we were younger and she used to tease him mercilessly. He seemed to have taken it upon himself to make sure Everlayne made as full a recovery as possible. He ducked his head as he followed me into the war tent.

“Sounds to me like Saeris is one of the most powerful beings this side of the afterlife. They’ve crowned her. She’s spoken her will and made it law.”

I grunted unhappily.

“They have to obey her, brother. It’s part of the curse of their court. You can thank Malcolm’s paranoia for that. Any vampire born of his linemustobey the Sanasrothian crown. Now that the crown sits on Saeris’s head and she’s forbidden them from harming her, she’s basically untouchable. She doesn’tneedprotecting. They have to follow the edicts. They can’t hurt her. They can’t hurt you. And not only that, but she decommissioned the fuckinghorde, Fisher.”

He was right. What he was saying made sense. So why, then, did this niggling, sick feeling persist in my stomach? “They’re bound to be trying to figure out a workaround as we speak. Zovena’s incandescent with rage—”

“ScrewZovena,” Ren muttered.

“—and Algat was grinning like an imp when she trotted out of that hall, so the gods only know whatshe’splanning.”

“Well, well, well. Look who it is. The wanderer returns.” The war tent was empty save for a lone figure sitting on a stool by the fire, running a whetstone along the edge of his sword. Avisiéth had once been named Celeandor. It had belonged to another member the Lupo Proelia, but Saeris had reforged it and placed it in Lorreth’s hands—the first god sword to channel magic in an age.

“You’re going to polish that blade away into nothing if you’re not careful,” Ren said, taking a seat next to him.

“It gets sulky if I don’t clean it every night.” Lorreth’s tone bore a hint of exasperation. He grinned at us both in greeting. “The damned thing has mood swings worse than a Faeling whose balls are about to drop.”

Ren laughed, nodding up at me. “Funny you mention balls. Askhimhowhisare.”

I groaned, leaning up against the table in the center of the room. “Gods alive, are you going to tell everyone?”

Lorreth frowned. Stooping, he collected a mug of beer from the floor at his feet. “Tell me what? What’s wrong with your balls?” He took a swig.

“He gave Saeris a new piece of ink. She had to feed from him before they’d crown her,” Renfis said. “Andsheaccidentally dosed him.”

Lorreth spat his beer everywhere.“What?”He grimaced up at me. “In front of the whole court?”

Defeated, I nodded, letting out a sigh. I might as well let them get it over with. “In front of the whole court.”

“How did you keep your shit together? Weren’t you . . .” He looked directly at my crotch. “Y’know . . .”

“Yes, I was harder than that fucking steel in your hands. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Gods, I’m so sorry,” Lorreth said. But he was laughing, which made it very clear that he wasn’t sorry, and, in fact, the piece of gossip was probably the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Iwasn’t laughing. Mainly because I hadn’t had a chance to be alone with Saeris since the coronation, but also because of the situation I found myself in now. I was in Irrín. My mate was not. If I’d had my way, we’d have already murdered every single bastard in the Sanasrothian Court and Saeris would be here, by my side. For once, I wanted to be selfish. Wanted to say fuck it and put my own happiness and the happiness of my mate first. But selfishness was not my lot in this life. As if reminding me of my path, the tattoo on my inner left forearm tingled, the ink shivering beneath my skin.Sacrifice.It pulsed often, even stung from time to time, as if the ink were still fresh. But it never changed. Never spelled out some other, less painful future.

The plan we had concocted since Saeris’s awakening felt pieced together and liable to fall apart at any second. The consequences, should we fail, had kept me from sleep for days.

If Tal didn’t keep up his end of the bargain and keep her safe . . .

If Saeris’s royal decree didn’t hold, or the Sanasrothian leeches found a way to circumvent it and killed her in her bed . . .

If she couldn’t find the information we so desperately needed in the Sanasrothian libraries . . .

If Carrion fucking Swift somehow landed himself in shit and dragged the love of my miserable life into it with him . . .

If.

There were too many ifs to comprehend. They bombarded me, crushing me under a barrage of all-too-real possibilities while I desperately clung to the promise I had made tohave faith. But having faith was like trying to remember a language I had once known as a child. No, it was worse. It was like trying to run with broken legs. My legs could not carry me right now, and so I was dragging myself along on my hands and knees, the wordfaitha boot on the back of my neck, shoving me down into the dirt.

Ren and Lorreth were still chuckling.