Dark Age (Red Rising Saga #5)

by Pierce Brown

I forbid you to die, Howler. I want my cloak back. Sevro will never let me hear the end of it.”

I knew war was dreadful, but I did not expect to fear it. How can anyone not, when death is just a blind giant with scissors?

The scout disappears and a moment later the sound that has plagued my dreams from the Palatine to the Belt finds me in the desert waste. The sound could only come from a legion escorting the Reaper. The howling of wolves.

How could they cross so much distance when we barely made it a hundred kilometers into the hypercane’s headwinds before draining our suits? Kalindora’s awed voice answers the unspoken question. “He rode the storm.”

There are only four directions, but Darrow has used so many tactics over the years, I freeze. It feels like he could come from anywhere.

I try to rally the left wing of my men, but it is a slaughter. And at the center of it swirls a god of death. The fighter’s helmet flashes. Around his body whirls that famous Gold-killing blade. As violence reaches for him, Darrow does not flinch like a man; he reaches like a covetous river.

The wolf howls fade in the distance. The flames eat my eye. Only then do I begin to scream.

Oh god, he's going to be UNBEARABLE after this

“Show me your face!” “Fear has no face.”

Well, I am in command now, Gold,” Harnassus says. “Darrow needs—” “Unless you got a cloak, he ain’t your pack. He’s been mine since I was sixteen. You’ve got a battle to finish, sir.”

Darrow cradled Pax in his arms. They had only just met. But he loved him because he was my boy, and bit by bit he realized he was his boy, our boy that we made together.

He put his ear to Pax’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. He told me then what he felt when he declared this war within the Hives of Phobos. How he was not close enough to hear the fading beat of his father’s heart, or Eo’s. But how, in that moment, he could feel the hearts of his people beating across the darkness. How in the heartbeat of our son, he could hear them all again.

My voice nearly falters as I feel more than ever the absence of my husband’s hand on my shoulder.

“Brothers and sisters…there will dawn a day when these hostile hours, these days of hatred and violence, seem the faintest of memories, but dark and steep and long is the road up out of hell.

You have not been abandoned. I will come for you. Until then, endure, my love. Endure.

Unlike most, Holiday is not waiting for her turn to flash her feathers. She listens because she’s heard enough noise to know that truth, if it ever appears, creeps in on quiet little feet.

“I have them under control.” If he knew Sevro was here and out of control, he’d be shitting himself.

You and I both know Darrow and the Reaper are two different things entirely. And the Reaper didn’t gnaw through the Society because he was a better military strategist than the Ash Lord. His gift is making men go mad. You’ve seen it.”

I punch off the datapad. It fizzles with broken circuits. I punch it again. What good is being smarter than everyone if no one listens?

Darrow and Pax do not die. It is a paradigm of my life that will be true until proven beyond reasonable doubt.

“Careful of the politicos. They’re carnivorous.” “Atlas already tried that. I’m inedible.”

My sister-in-law, for lack of a more accurate word, has a theory that is not altogether mad. “If Dictaeon Antron is actually supposed to be a brain, pray tell what is the purpose of giant albino swimmers? They’re sperm, Virginia. Giant predatory cannibal sperm, and not even five people have the nerve to say so. Daxo is playing a joke on the world, just to measure who isn’t afraid of him. I love that freak.”

“Senator Telemanus. I must admit, the architecture certainly makes a statement. It is a remarkable man who can bare his balls to the world.” Daxo is stunned silent. Publius bows. The door closes. And I burst into a fit of laughter.

“You want to know how I lured him here?” “Sure, let’s talk about that.” “I told him Darrow sent a communiqué from Mercury telling us to beseech Publius cu Caraval. ‘He is the conscience of the Republic, and our last hope.’ ” “You are a cretin.”

If one listed all the qualities a tyrant might possess, one might start by describing Daxo au Telemanus.

He holds up the ring. “This ring belongs to Ephraim ti Horn. When he asks for it back, I’ll give it to him.”

He slides down from the statue and wobbles toward me. Valdir barks something in Nagal at him to the effect of “Try not to lose your idiot again, idiot.”

Valdir could not put boy and girl with children of tribe. Their spirits are those of wolves.”

Girl’s straight psycho. It’s in the blood.”

“You care about boy. Warmth still in your stone heart. This is good.” “It’s not a bloody marriage. He’s just my meal ticket. But he ain’t like the other one.” “No. She is better fighter. He is more dangerous human. I warned Queen. He will refuse lesson this time. Rage festers inside. Watch.”

There is no wisdom in the company of deserters. There is only shame. You left your Morning Star to face your common enemy alone. But do not fret.” His grin is the nasty sort I did not know he had in him. “It will be short-lived when the engines of doom kill my father and arrive on Mars to chase even the oathbreakers to their graves. Make no mistake, Sefi, Queen of the Obsidians, this is no war of Wind or Fire.” He gestures to the dismantled Obsidian youth around him, with pity to the one holding the bone fragment in his neck. “This is a war of annihilation, and you are outmatched by the darker breed of my kind.

“I am the son of the Morning Star. The flesh and blood of the man who broke your chains.

“Makes life’s flow a bit smoother.” “Poor little man,” she mocks. “Life is meant to be felt. Else why live? Valleys make the mountains.”

You’re buying yourself another war.” “We know war,” Valdir says in dismissal. “With your old pal the Reaper?” I ask, causing him to stand up. “Ask Gold how fun that is.”

I told her I would pay her for their release. If you pledge fealty to me, they are yours.” Don’t do it, oldboy. She’s gonna die bad. Dreamers all do. Don’t you know?

I stole the heir of the Reaper and the Sovereign, and the hellspawn of the Goblin and Victra au Julii. And I stole them twice, with nothing but a Red, a Green, and an Obsidian. Oh, and the second time I did it solo.”

Are there any questions?” They stare back blankly. Ozgard clears his throat. “Ephraim.” “Yes, Ozgard?” “Forgot to mention. Only half speak Common.” I close my eyes. “I hate you.”

Sevro’s razor. He’s the only Howler who uses a serrated blade. Doesn’t make much difference when the edge is so sharp, but he thinks it looks scarier. He’s right.

ArchGovernor Rollo gives a rousing screed that ends with “Treason might float on Luna, but not on Mars. Any senator that votes to kill the Free Legions and the Reaper of Mars better enjoy that bloodsucking moon, for if they come back, I’ll pull their bloodydamn feet!”

“You’ll want the salts,” Theodora says, glancing warily at the cylinders in the box. “Please. This horse rides for only one man.”

mic. drop.

“In part, this is me measuring the fidelity of your brain patterns and predictive behavior to help me develop an evolving technology. But more to the point, this is me killing time.” His pretty eyes narrow. “For what?” Finally, the lights go out. “The Goblin of Mars.”

“If I get even a slight bit dizzy, you get a tranq in the face from Min-Min.” Holiday snorts. “Like that ruster could hit the broad side of a Telemanus’s ass.”

“I said: Pax is in danger, race back and rescue him because I’m not actually the most powerful person in the Republic. I need my husband. Boo hoo. Weak and helpless am I. Pax needs you.” I look at Pebble. “And Darrow replied, ‘Pax who?’ ” Sevro just sits there. “I didn’t ask him to come back, you little diva.

So teeth together and look crusty beside your new master, cuz we all know you’re wet bread inside.” Theodora really doesn’t like that. “Sevro, dear. You haven’t had your balls for ten years. You gave them to Victra as a bridal dowry. And let’s not get started on how many times I’ve seen you cry. Wet bread indeed.” Sevro looks calmly over to me. “They know I hit women, right?”

“Sevro, where is my boy?” I ask one last time. His eyes are starting to go glassy.

“I had Darrow’s back till I had to have Victra’s. You’re third in line. So don’t keep asking. We’ll get Pax to you. That’s an oath. But I gotta have my wife’s back.”

Sevro is Sevro. I have to believe that. No matter what he does, he doesn’t go cold like Victra and Darrow. This is breaking him apart. The horrid violence, the lowered head, the refusal to communicate—all remnants of his early survival mechanisms. Do we ever leave them behind?

Thought my deeds would get me some street cred. False hope. As Freihild is only too keen to impart: I violated the sanctity of one of their sacred heroes by filching the Reaper’s brood. Pax is literally a godchild to them, Electra not far behind.

Uncle Sevro used the stuff for a spell. Zoladone, I mean.” “Did he now?” “The Rat War was hard on everyone. He’s not really a Goblin. He’s actually very sweet.”

“You play Karachi, right, Xenophon?” The logos’s eyes lose their glaze and do a little dance. “It’s a little early, no?” “Education has no schedule.” “Then let yours begin.”

Today my Sovereign is the Lionheart, and tomorrow she will have my votes. We will rescue the Free Legions.” “ ’Bout bloodydamn time,” Sevro says.