Wrath (The Faithful and the Fallen, #4)

by John Gwynne

“Because this is not who I am,” she eventually said. “One act of darkness, of treachery. But also many of loyalty, too. Judge me by

the sum of my deeds, not just the one mistake.”

“How pathetic you humans are. So much emotion wrapped up in weakness, leading you to attempt the impossible, lying to yourself, time and time again. Hope, I think you call it. And yet always you fail. Your whole experience has been death and misery, failure and yet more death, and still you refuse to face the truth. A breed with such a talent for blind delusion and denial deserves to be exterminated.”

There it is, the difference between the Bright Star and the Black Sun, right there. Who stands at Nathair’s cairn and mourns? And yet Corban is surrounded, not by those who serve or fear him, but by those who love him. Even a scruffy old

crow. That tells a tale far clearer than a prophecy scrawled upon parchment. I am glad that I met him, that I discovered the truth before it was too late.

New life, moving on. He felt a twinge of guilt, but moving on did not mean forgetting. Never forgetting.