There was a series of loud shouts, and Michel turned around to look back in the direction of the monolith. He realized that he’d wandered quite far away, and squinted to see people running away from the wrecked land-barge.
“Duck,” he said, helping Hendres into a crouch.
The sight of the blast reached them several moments before the sound and shock wave did, making his ears ring and nearly knocking him flat on his ass. A giant ball of flame rose up around the godstone, and he felt a deep stab of satisfaction. That, as it went in the storybooks his mother so liked to read, was that. He kept his eyes on the smoking ruin in the distance for some time before turning back to Landfall.
“What are you going to do, sir?” Hendres asked.
Michel considered this for a moment, then replied, “I’m going to do what I do best. I’m going to find my mother, be certain she’s safe, and then I’m going to make sure that Landfall keeps running in fair weather or foul.”
EPILOGUE
Taniel’s ears rang from the sound of the blast, despite the globs of wax he’d stuffed in them. He watched the fireball from the explosion die down and fought the headache that came along with controlling the detonation of so much powder. He, working in tandem with Vlora, had used his sorcery to warp the entire power of the blast of almost a hundred barrels of powder directly toward the center of the monolith.
It was enough explosive power to destroy a small city.
“It didn’t work,” he said, digging the wax out of his ears.
“Thank you for that observation,” Vlora replied sourly as she and Ka-poel did the same. Together, the three of them walked to the monolith, picking their way through the charred grasses and the matchsticks that remained of the land-barge. The explosion had stained the limestone black, quite effectively cleaning the remaining dirt from its cracks and crevices, but appeared to have not so much as scratched the surface.
Ka-poel ran her hand along the ancient runes on the godstone’s side, then shook her head. Nothing.
“That explosion should have ground this stupid block to dust—or at least cracked it,” Vlora said.
Taniel walked up and down the length of the godstone twice, reaching out gingerly with his senses, wishing that he had Ka-poel’s ability to read the Else. A Privileged would be far more useful here than either him or Vlora, and Ka-poel was learning about this thing on the fly, so he wasn’t at all confident in his own senses.
Besides, he didn’t like feeling the godstone in the Else. It made the backs of his eyeballs itch and gave him a feeling like spiders crawling up his spine. He’d seen a lot in this world—pit, he’d killed two gods—but this godstone made his skin crawl in a way that facing Kresimir in person had never done.
“I’m not letting you take it,” Vlora said emphatically.
Taniel raised his hands in surrender. “You made your position very clear. But the Dynize are on their way, and unless you’ve got any better ideas …” He trailed off, and glanced at Ka-poel, who was now standing back, one hand on her chin, mouth pressed into a thoughtful line.
She gestured to him. I think I have something.
“To destroy it?” he asked.
No. It might take me a long time to destroy it. But there may be something else. She explained her plan, and Taniel found himself nodding along.
“Ka-poel wants to try something,” he said to Vlora. “The wards in the godstone are like nothing any of us has ever seen before. They won’t just succumb to brute force. All that powder we piled on didn’t even cause a dent in them.”
“So,” Vlora asked suspiciously, “what do you want to try?”
Taniel was annoyed at her suspicion, but admitted to himself that she was right to be. In a way, he agreed with Lindet. The godstone needed to be kept and studied. He just didn’t trust either Lindet or the Dynize to do so. And unlike Vlora, he did trust his wife to do it.
Ka-poel didn’t answer Vlora. Instead, she searched her satchel for a knife, then bent over, cutting a thin furrow in the dirt. She walked backward, working a line into the ground, slowly around the entire monolith. Vlora watched the process with her lips pursed. “Is this something that’s going to get me killed?” she asked.
“When Ka-poel works,” Taniel said, hoping his own worry didn’t show in his tone, “it’s often something likely to get her killed.” He tilted his head. He thought he had some idea as to what she was up to, but after eleven years as companions she still managed to surprise him more often than not. Blood sorcery was far more an art than a science, and it always seemed to his eyes that Ka-poel made up her own rules.
When she’d finished her furrow she stepped back, then back farther, then a little farther, gesturing for Taniel and Vlora to get behind her. Vlora snorted impatiently, but followed her instructions.
“Give her time,” Taniel asked, retreating to a safe distance.
Ka-poel took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and holding her hands with palms pointed downward. There she remained as the seconds, then minutes, ticked by.
“What’s she doing?” Vlora finally whispered.
Taniel responded honestly, “I have no idea.”
It was some time before he got the strange impression that the ground was moving. He ignored it at first, and then realized it wasn’t the ground at all. Something was creeping over the soil through the stalks of the cotton plants. He looked down at his feet and all the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
The ground was covered in blood. Not soaked with it, but literally covered, like red ink spilled on an impermeable surface. It flowed, black and thick, bringing the smell of rotten corpses with it, toward the godstone. Vlora didn’t seem to notice until the blood reached the stone and began to climb up it, and then she let out a gasp.
The blood continued to come. There were ample amounts, after all. Thousands of gallons soaked into the dirt, and it all moved along at her whim.
“Is this something she does often?” Vlora asked, obviously unnerved.
“I’ve never seen this before.”
The blood worked its way up and around until it completely covered the monolith in a thick black sludge, and then it disappeared slowly, like water going down a drain. It took Taniel a moment to realize the blood had soaked into the godstone.
“That,” Vlora said, awe in her voice, “is one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever seen.”
Taniel eyed the side of his wife’s face, wondering what was going through her mind. Even on the best of days, she could still be inscrutable. She was a mystery, through and through, and sometimes it scared him. But then again, that mystery was why he loved her as much as he did.
Ka-poel suddenly let out a sigh and sagged, and Taniel rushed forward to catch her before she fell. She felt so small in his arms; weak. He remembered that someone had once described her as a teapot full of gunpowder—powerful but fragile—and he thought the description as apt as ever. “You’ll need to rest tomorrow,” he told her.
She nodded in agreement.
“What has she done?” Vlora asked, walking up to the monolith and placing her hand hesitantly on the side.
Taniel reached out with his own senses. He could no longer feel the sorcery of the monolith, or the dark whispering in the back of his mind. It was, it seemed, nothing more than stone. Ka-poel spoke with her hands, and he translated: “She’s sealed it. The sorcery is still there, buried inside, but she used the …” He frowned, watching as she repeated her hand motions, then he continued. “She’s used the blood of the fallen to create a barrier. She says the Dynize bone-eyes probably will be able to pick it apart, eventually.” He laughed at the final two gestures, her bold confidence amusing him. “But,” he said, “she’s far more powerful than any of them. It’ll take them forever to access the stone.”
“So we have time,” Vlora said flatly.
“That’s all we can offer,” Taniel responded.
Vlora paced back and forth, and Taniel hoped she understood. Ka-poel was dangerou
s, but she was not infallible or omnipotent. If she said breaking the godstone was beyond her ability, he believed her. “How long?” Vlora asked.
Ka-poel shrugged, and Taniel said, “Months? Years? Who knows? It depends on how clever Ka-sedial is.”
Vlora was clearly unhappy with the answer, but she walked across the field to a number of her aides standing farther back. She returned a moment later, a scowl on her face. “It’s done,” she said.
“What?” Taniel asked.
“I’ve ordered the evacuation of the city.”
“Ah.”
Vlora suddenly closed her eyes, and Taniel wondered if he spotted tears there. “Why,” she asked in a whisper, “does it feel like I lost?”
“You didn’t,” Taniel said.
“I didn’t?” she echoed.
“No. Without you and the Riflejacks, the godstone would be in Dynize hands now. They’d have a tool to make a monster.”
“They’ll still get it,” Vlora said. “We’re leaving the city. Withdrawing. I can’t defend it without Lindet’s help, and she now wants my head. The Dynize will take Landfall and the godstone.”
“We’ll be back,” Taniel said confidently. He nodded to himself, hoping he was right. The fate of the entire continent rested on the idea. “It’ll take some time, but I’ll give you an army of Palo that can match the Dynize.”
“And what about Lindet?” Vlora asked.
“We’ll have to deal with her when it comes to that. In the meantime, we need to worry about the other two godstones.”
Vlora inhaled sharply. “Excuse me?”
Taniel felt tired—more tired than he’d felt at any time since his father died. But he also felt good. This was the first step in a plan he and Ka-poel had been working on for the better part of a decade. He glanced around, noticing that some of the Riflejacks were staring at him and Ka-poel. They were beginning to suspect who he was, and he didn’t much care. In fact, there was a freedom in being alive to the world again. “Two more godstones,” he said, holding up his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Lindet is already well on her way to finding them. We just have to make sure we get to them before she does.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I can never say enough about my awesome editor, Devi Pillai, and the guidance she gives to my books. She was especially patient with this one, and it’s ten times better than it would have been without her ability to make me do my best. The usual thanks go out to my agent, Caitlin Blasdell, who runs interference for me when I’m behind schedule, and gives me pep talks when I need them.
Thanks to my wife, Michele, for reading the drafts of this book into the early hours of the morning to help me get it done. Her advice is an invaluable part of my writing.
Special thanks to my beta-readers, including David Wohlreich, Peter Keep, Mark Lindberg, and Justin Landon. A good beta-reader is often an unsung hero of the editing process, and mine are no exception.
The biggest appreciation goes out to all the people at Orbit who take these stories from my head and put them on the shelf, including (but not limited to) Lauren Panepinto, James Long, Alex Lencicki, Ellen Wright, and Laura Fitzgerald. None of this would happen without the whole team doing their jobs—a fact that is often overlooked by the fans who love these books.
And of course, thank you to everyone for reading. You’re the best fans a writer could hope for. I’m blessed to have a place on your shelves, and hope to continue to deserve that honor for many books to come.
BY BRIAN McCLELLAN
GODS OF BLOOD AND POWDER
Sins of Empire
THE POWDER MAGE TRILOGY
Promise of Blood
The Crimson Campaign
The Autumn Republic
Forsworn (novella)
Servant of the Crown (novella)
Murder at the Kinnen Hotel (novella)
Ghosts of the Tristan Basin (novella)
In the Field Marshal’s Shadow (collection)
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Brian McClellan, Sins of Empire
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