An Echo of Things to Come (The Licanius Trilogy, #2)

by James Islington

“You were an idiot—there’s no denying that—but there’s not a malicious or deceitful bone in your body, Torin. It’s one of the reasons I love you.” Wirr blinked at her for a few seconds, running the words over in his head a few times to make sure that he hadn’t misunderstood. He broke into a slow, wide smile, his heart unclenching for the first time in a week. “I love you, too,” he said quietly. It was true, and to his surprise, he wasn’t afraid to say it.

He stepped forward. Cupped her face in his hands. Then he kissed her, gently at first but with increasing ardor as she responded until eventually they broke apart again, flushed and grinning foolishly at each other. For a few blissful seconds, Wirr completely forgot what they had been talking about, his heart lighter than it had been in a long, long time.

“Do not talk to me of sacrifice, you foolish, arrogant man. Nine hundred years ago, I sacrificed millions of your people so that we could stand here today. I sacrificed my soul for this moment.” His voice cracked a little. “You use the word and yet you never needed to do this. You think to stop me with this? You think that I do not understand your plan? I made your plan. I whispered in the ears of your best and brightest. I sent them on their journey south with Ironsails laden with food. I timed my attack so that they would not be there when the rest of your people died. My goal—my only goal—was to get you to build this place.” He took a breath. “I lit the fire that burns in you,

Whatever their kind even was now. He rushed over and knelt by Garadis, bending down to touch him on the shoulder, not sure if it would hurt. It caused Caeden no physical pain, however the light contact caused Garadis to scream and buck wildly. Caeden snatched his hand away, but Garadis was already … dimmer. Garadis looked up at him with still-blue eyes full of pain and rage and fear and hatred. “Help us,” he whispered. Caeden closed his eyes, breathing deeply. It would be so much easier to just let these people die, then undo it all later. He would undo it all anyway. But this time, something held him back. “How?” he asked. “We need Essence.” Garadis’s voice was little more than a gasp. “Kan is draining us, Devaed. I feel it. We must get away. This place is tearing us apart.”

HOLY SHIT THEY ARE THE LYTH

“Every man alive has had these things,” he said quietly. “The beggar who has been given a piece of silver has had wealth. The slave who has been asked to complete a task has had power. The prisoner who has not been executed has had privilege.” His eyes shone as he sat opposite me. “I desire not the things of this world that are a matter of perspective, Javahan. I desire not the things which will only increase my desire. I desire not the petty things of men.” “Then what?” I asked, though I had trepidation in doing so. “Choice,”

the Siphon, he called it—tapped into a person’s store of Essence. Far more useful when applied to mages, whose stores were by far larger than regular people’s, but still effective on those like myself. The lethargy, even occasional fainting that we all experienced at various times was from Serrin draining our very life force to supplement his own.

So Nethgalla has been the one responsible for Asha’s dizzy spells?!

Could Davian’s message to the Shadraehin have actually been to Nethgalla? And he’d been telling her where to find Caeden?

Scyner—the Augur who was working with the Shadraehin here—was the one who directed Prince Torin to the notebook. And from what Ashalia has told me previously, he also claims to have killed all the other Augurs.” Taeris’s expression was grim. “I think it’s entirely possible that Jakarris is still alive.”

HAH KNEW IT!!

She was just like the rest of them—willfully ignorant, passionately believing in something because she surrounded herself with people who also passionately believed in the same thing. He knew the type, now—those who found it easier to listen to people who reinforced what they already thought, rather than actually considering the opinions of those who didn’t.

“Not that we should do that,” he added drily. “Why not?” He turned to stare at Ishelle, who was frowning absently as she examined the structure. She looked up and shrugged when she saw his expression. “What if we’re not making headway because we can’t see the whole picture? What if whatever’s wrong with the Boundary is actually on the northern side?

Don’t listen to her! She’s possesed!! But also still do it!

Erran grunted his agreement. “Fess, take Davian. You won’t catch her if you have to account for two of us. It’s not as if Geladra here has any proof of wrongdoing, or any way that she can hurt me if she decided to try.”

But she can uncover the fact you controlled her husband for literal years

“I should have said something sooner.” Ishelle had turned back to her inspection of the surrounding countryside, though there was little to see. Just flat, cracked, baked, and lifeless dirt for … miles.

Damn right!!

The true evil is always in the reason and the excuse, not the act. I was fooled. I was angry. I wasn’t thinking. I had to do it, else worse things would have happened. It didn’t hurt anyone. It hurt less people than it would have if I hadn’t. It was to protect myself. It was to protect others. It was in my nature. It was necessary. It was right.” He said the words softly. “We have both been alive long enough to know that evil only wins when it spreads. It can cause destruction, it can cause death—but those are consequences of its nature, not its victory. Not its goal. The danger of evil, the purpose of evil, is that it causes those who would oppose it to become evil also.”

“I will take Licanius. Kill Meldier and Isiliar, retrieve the Siphon. And then when I have bound the Lyth, I will use the final Tributary to make sure that the ilshara does not fall before its time.”

‘The people with whom we are friends should never affect our morality; rather, our morality should affect with whom we are friends.’”

“Certainty is hubris, Tal. It is arrogance and bluster and those who claim it deserve nothing but to be mocked.”

Wirr dropped to his knees, carefully laying his mother’s body on the ground. He knew before he checked what he would find, though. The blade had pierced her heart. Geladra’s eyes were open and sightless, and she was not breathing. Wirr choked back a sob, pouring the last of his Essence into her, searching for any sign of life. Nothing happened.

Damn having both parents die in your arms is fucking rough.