Dark Age (Red Rising Saga #5)

by Pierce Brown

“Oh gods. Brooding again? Some things never change,” a voice says. I turn to see a vision from the past. “Cassius?” “Hello, goodman. Kavax said you might need a hand.”

One by one, the titans of my youth disappear, and freed from their shadow, I do not feel liberated. I feel bereft. Nothing is permanent. No one escapes. “The bill comes at the end,” I whisper.

Diomedes lied. Cassius is alive. And Darrow has slipped the noose.

She smiles down at me. “Thank you for helping me. I have never had a friend so small be so big.” She kisses me on the forehead and steps forward.

I would wager all on the proposition that my head is more secure than yours, young Lune. After all, I am the best kind of hero—harmless. And you are the worst—young with a name.”

“I know how to handle Atalantia.” “That would make you the first.”

The Fear Knight’s voice is barely a whisper. “Poor choice, young man. Poor choice.” I miss the desert. It was simpler there.

As I watch, the lines of fire curve into the shape of a slingBlade. Mars endures.

I wish I could wrap my boy in my arms and hold him until he became part of me again. I would garland him with kisses and apologies and promises. But we are at war, and I am the Sovereign, and so the mother must wait her turn. Kavax sees my distress, and breaks from the procession to scoop my son up into his arms with a madman’s laugh. He perches him on his shoulder and crows about the Boy Who Killed a TorchShip.

“Electra. Thank you for taking care of my son,” I say. Her narrow eyes flick to him. “That his story? No one likes liars, Pax.” They flick back to me. They were always hard, but not like they are now. I can see that now all she wants is to grow up so she can kill. It’s no longer cute.

“Victra.” She turns. Her eyes trace the divots Lilath’s hatchet left on my stomach and neck and the several hundred punctures the mob gave me on my flanks and arms, and a tension releases from her shoulders. Her love and hate are made of the same passion. “I tried,” I whisper. “Truly.”

“If we cannot engineer salvation for our men, then vengeance will suffice,” Victra says.

Victra will have her wrath till her dying breath. I will have my hope. I will make our family whole again.