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“I’m not fond of rumors, Saeris Fane. Rumors are next-door neighbors to gossip, and gossip always breaks bread with lies. It’s just the way these things go.”
Looking a little hysterical, he threw his arms wide, Nimerelle casting off wisps of black smoke. “Who the fuck is Elroy?”
He called me a waste of carbon. What does that even mean?”
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”
“Gods alive, Carrion. Do not tell me you have a thing for Danya. She’s fucking awful.” “Eh.” He shot me a rakish grin. “I love a girl with a sharp tongue and a bad attitude. Kinda makes my dick hard.”
“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”
Carrion held the sword, turning it this way and that. After much consideration, he said, “It looks like a Simon.” “Simon?”
“I play back,” Fisher spat. “It might not be today, but oh, I am coming to find you, Madra. Fear the shadows, bitch. I’m made of them. One night soon, I’ll climb out of one and slit your fucking throat.”
