Page 31 of The Cruel Dawn (Vallendor #2)

I slip upstairs with the Librum Esoterica now weighing down the satchel gifted to me by Separi—I can’t leave it unattended.

I pass through the busy sitting room to reach the bustling kitchen.

There, Ridget and her family shell peas and peel potatoes.

Their thick black, brown, and red braids glint with glass beads and rose-gold luclite thread, the strongest metal made by mortals.

Each woman bows her head to acknowledge me, but they don’t stop their work.

“I was hoping you’d come say ‘hello.’” Ridget’s voice crackles like a fireplace, sharp and smoky.

She wears a saffron-yellow dress that complements her dark skin.

On the day she married Separi, Ridget wore a similar dress with a corset of luclite and silk.

Separi wore pale-green velvet breeches and a loose, blue-green tunic.

In a clearing surrounded by towering trees, in light broken by leaves, I’d blessed their union and promised to watch over them.

Many seasons have passed since then, and I’ve broken my promise. I’ve broken many such promises to many humans who looked to me for protection. This realm they’ve helped to enrich is falling apart—and now there are people outside their home eager to slit their necks.

“I want to apologize,” I say to Ridget, my stomach twisting from guilt as much as the food’s aroma. “I’m so sorry that I’ve made you a target—”

“No,” Ridget snaps. “They’re simply using you as an excuse to perpetrate hate. Their rage has been building for a long time now, and it finally exploded the moment that first crate of wheat from the new god rolled up on the riverbank.”

I grimace. “Still: just so that you know. I didn’t come to Caburh for vengeance or to bring more chaos into this town.”

Ridget taps the young woman working beside her, then points at a slab of bacon on the other counter. “A few glasses broke moments ago. And then this happened”—she points to the ceiling and to a thick crack zigzagging from one wall to the next—“while you were talking downstairs with Philia.”

“I got a little angry,” I admit. “Won’t happen again.”

“Emotion is bad now?”

I shrug. “I should show better control. I’m supposed to be an example, right?”

Ridget says, “Hmm,” and stirs the shallots in the pan with a wooden spoon. “And who said gods were supposed to be perfect and free of emotion?”

My skin flushes as I remember what I did to those soldiers back in Caerno Woods after Veril’s death. How I’d hurled countless fireballs at them even after it was obvious those soldiers were dead. That fire still burns.

The room shudders—like a bull has just rammed into the side of the inn.

The women in the kitchen gasp. They pause their work to gape at each other, looking worried.

“What was that?” I ask, creeping over to peek out the window.

And then, a steady knocking…

In the shadows, people are standing side by side at the walls of the Broken Hammer.

They’re all knocking on the inn at the same time.

And they look… different . They glow but not with the amber glow of dying mortals.

And “glow” isn’t the most precise word, either.

No, these people knocking on the inn’s walls are filled with…

an absence of light , but it isn’t darkness.

Void.

And now, each of the Voidful knock on the walls of the Broken Hammer.

Ridget comes to stand beside me. “What are they doing?”

I squint at them, at their shredded hands, at their hollow eyes, how they place their ears against the brick walls trying to hear… “They’re trying to get in.” My heart flares, and I step away from the window.

“Get in?” Ridget laughs and returns to those shallots frying in the pan. “They’ll fail.”

These Voidful are looking for the door, looking for a weakness. Are they looking for me?

Ridget sucks her teeth. “Don’t worry, Lady. They’re just regular, hateful bastards wearing grimy tunics.”

My mouth dries as I spin farther away from the window and shake my head. “Their light… It’s different in these people.”

Knock… Knock…

Ridget chuckles. “Ugly insides have a way of eating up anything beautiful. Think of them as apples. You know how the rot starts at the core? By the time the spoilage reaches the peel, you’re thinking, Oh, that’s just a minor blemish. But then you take a bite and…ugh.”

Knock… Knock… Knock…

I look out the window again because maybe this is an illusion. Maybe my imagination has been affected by exhaustion and caused by my guilty feelings about…about… everything .

Outside the inn, the numbers of the Voidful have grown and—

I place my face against the window. Do I see who I think I…?

Fuck .

Jamart! The candlemaker’s skin is covered with bruises. Dried blood crusts around his purple neck.

Lively stands beside him.

Both are knocking…knocking…

But they’re dead… right ? With my own eyes, I saw them meet their ends in that ?eld behind Farmer Gery’s barn in Maford. Danar Rrivae had squeezed Jamart’s neck until…

I blink to clear my vision of what I saw, but as I open them, new tears blind me.

“Little do they know,” Ridget is saying, “that if you were to show us your true power, this world would surely end.” The Renrian narrows her eyes. “Don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go yet. So, if you don’t mind…”

A lump forms in my throat at the plain and unassuming way Ridget speaks to me, and I reply, “Don’t worry. I won’t burn down the rest of Caburh because someone calls me ‘Maelstrom.’ I shouldn’t destroy the forest because a single roach crosses my path.”

She sucks her teeth again. “But where there’s one roach in the forest, there are many.” Ridget considers me with searching eyes. “Which means, then, that the forest must go. With fire comes life. Stronger life, tested life. Freedom.”

Knock…knock…

I gaze at the beautiful, caramelized shallots in Ridget’s pan. Then I gaze upon the kitchen’s high ceiling speckled with grime, the once-sturdy walls now plagued with cracks. I shake my head in wonder. “How can you and Separi run such a lovely inn in this awful town? Why don’t you leave?”

“Our ancestors founded this place,” Ridget says. “Why should we abandon our home?”

“Because you and your family could be killed . ”

Knock…knock…

Eyebrows furrowed, Ridget exhales heavily and shakes her head. “We will continue to enchant just enough to make them see what their hearts cannot.” She smiles at me. “Why don’t you wash up for dinner? Your favorite room is ready for you.”

I take one last peek out the window, wondering if this inn can truly withstand the Voidful.

The Voidful, including Jamart, Lively and… Sinth, the Dashmala that I killed in Caerno Woods… They all stand at the walls of the Broken Hammer, knocking and knocking.

…

Alone now in the room with the pearl-and-gold doorknob, I release a pent-up breath and regard the clean bedding, the wash area, and the cake of soap.

Just an age ago, from this window, I’d had a view of tall, majestic firs and a river that ran swiftly with refreshing clean water.

There had been wild turkeys in those woods on the other side of the Duskmoor.

No longer. Sludge fills that river—nothing will ever live or survive in that water, not anymore.

Those worrisome banners heralding the new god of the golden tree hang from every other post and doorframe. And the Voidful…

I don’t see them anymore.

During my single night here with Jadon, we’d eaten a delicious dinner, and he’d blindfolded me and had laced honey across my tongue and he’d glowed with plum-colored light.

But then…

Shit happened.

I set the bag with the Librum Esoterica on the bed and cross over to the small washstand and mirror in the corner.

My reflection shows a face worn thin with anguish and golden eyes dimmed by exhaustion.

I dip my hands into the basin of cool water, and the chill shocks my skin awake.

I splash my face, neck, and arms, and let my fingers massage my temples…

“What’s that?” I lean closer to the mirror for a better view of the skin near my hairline.

Flaky.

I scratch at the spot, and the patch of flaky skin widens.

Shit- —that stings.

I pinch at that small patch and peel— Ouch! Wincing, I peel that skin away to see a new layer of angrier-looking skin beneath. I spot another patch between my eyebrows, and I scratch at it…

Ouch. Fuck.

Okay, so I’ve been fighting and Spryting all around the realm, and I’m sure my body has tired from moving almost nonstop, but this… decay seems a little… excessive .

But I keep peeling and scratching until the wash basin is filled with dirty water, its surface flecked with pieces of me. And my face: it’s become a patchwork of old skin and new. What will I be left with once I’m done shedding?

I back away from the sink and sit on the bed. I push off my cloak, tight breastplate and tighter boots, and tunic and enjoy fresh air kissing my bare skin. My eyes weigh as much as a mountain, and I rub them to stay awake.

But all of me sags, and I whisper, “Fuck it,” and lie across the bed. I stare up at the ceiling’s wooden beams, and for a moment, I think about keeping watch, about the Voidful outside these walls, but my tired eyes shut, and my mind drifts…

…

Zephar and I ride horses and whoop with joy as we chase a behemoth worupine that shoots its poisonous quills at us from across the meadow. We pull the reins of our horses as the beast crests a hill.

“Let it go,” Zephar says.

I cast an eye to the sky and to the gray clouds slowly smashing against each other.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, a twinkle in my eye.

“I’m starving,” Zephar says, squinting at me.

Hunting makes us ravenous.

Hand in hand, we guide our horses through a valley nestled between a silver stream and ash trees.

The air smells of wildflowers, but also of apples and lavender, even though neither grow here.

As we round a bend, a man comes into view.

He leads no horse and carries no sword. Tall and confident, he stands there, unwavering, his gaze fixed on us, his intent unknown.

Fearless, Zephar and I ride our horses over to the man. Once we’re steps away from him, we dismount.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as Zephar takes my hand.

Jadon steps closer to us, his eyes on me.

“Make another move,” Zephar growls at him, “and I’ll break your fucking back.”

Jadon, though, takes another step. He doesn’t care about the man bigger than this realm.

My throat tightens, but not because I’m scared. No, I love Zephar’s type of rowdiness, I love Jadon’s clenching fists, and I can’t stop smiling even though a fight is bubbling beneath this stormy sky.

Jadon finally shifts his gaze to the biggest threat before him. Remembering that he is, at least, a demigod, he presses back his shoulders and lifts his chin. The mark on his right hand glows like the daystar, and his jaw is harder than the earth beneath these lush grasslands.

Yeah, I remember Jadon’s hand clenching on my ass, and I remember tasting me on his fingers and on his soft lips, and… “Can’t we all just get along?” I ask now, my voice a whisper beneath my pounding heart.

“I will never ‘get along’ when it comes to you,” Zephar whispers. His hand rests around my waist, and he bends to nuzzle my neck. His breath is hot on my ears and his cock hard on my back.

I tear my eyes from Jadon’s and look up at my Mera warrior.

“I don’t ask for much,” I say, searching Zephar’s rum-colored eyes.

I already feel drunk with power, with anticipation as my hands flutter like moths over his muscled chest, as my fingers drift from the destroyed realm of Melki over to the obliterated world of Yoffa and down to my favorite domain, the biggest realm of all…

Jadon and Zephar… I want to destroy them. I want to wear them both all over my skin.

“This monster betrayed you,” Zephar says, his hand over my hand that now strokes and coaxes him.

Jadon doesn’t speak—Zephar isn’t wrong. So he stays quiet but lets his eyes dance over me.

Fuck, I love his eyes .

I step away from Zephar but keep one hand on his magnificent bulge while I peer at the silent prince of Brithellum. “Tell me, Prince Wake: what do you want?”

The sky presses down on us, and I look up again to those rain-heavy clouds.

“You,” Jadon says. “I’ve only ever wanted you. In this realm, in realms beyond, there’s only you.”

I say, “Prove it.”

I don’t stop Jadon from kneeling before me.

I don’t stop Jadon as he kisses my belly and follows the inked vine curling higher…

higher…until it becomes Mera letters that spell KAI MERA DESTROYER OF WORLDS.

The prince of Brithellum pushes away my bandeau, and his tongue travels beneath my breast until his mouth covers my nipple. And then he bites.

I tense and moan.

Zephar’s hand moves from my waist and pushes down my sarong.

His fingers slide along my ass, dropping and then dipping into me from behind, and I gasp, and my eyes go wide, and I watch those storm clouds, and I’m amazed at how fat they are with rain, and I wonder who will explode first, those clouds or me, and I reach back and kiss Zephar, then turn to kiss Jadon and—

BAM!

A violent shudder shakes the meadow-—

No. I’m not in a meadow. I’m in a room at the Broken Hammer.

I sit up in bed. “What—?”

BAM! BAM!

The windows rattle.

The banging is coming from the outside.

“Bring Maelstrom out here!” an angry man shouts.

“Kill the false god!” an angry woman shouts.

Outside in the hallway, footsteps bang up the stairs and down the corridor. The door to my room crashes open.

Philia, her face bright pink, her eyes bugged, stands in the doorway. “Kai, it’s time to go.”