Children of Fallen Gods (The War of Lost Hearts, #2)

by Carissa Broadbent

One night, I went to sleep the Teirness, and I woke up with my father’s hands around my throat. Perhaps he should have killed me that night, for what I am. But instead of taking my life, he took my title.

Once upon a time I was a princess.

I sighed and loosened the laces of my leather sleeves, yanking them up to my elbows, and thrust my arm out to her. Waited.

Every inch of my forearm was marked, a solid wall of black X’s, scars on top of tattoos. One X for every infraction, for every shame, symbolizing another piece of my skin that could not be occupied by tales of heroics.

“This isn’t just a tattoo,” he said. “It’s a spell. It combined my blood, and Tisaanah’s. And it binds her life to mine. If I die, so does she.”

It is a privilege to do nothing, Max. So many people do not have that gift.”

“No war can be fought with clean hands,” he said. “Not even the ones waged for the right reasons. Not even the ones you win.”

We always did understand each other’s darkest shadows, Maxantarius.”

My division was not entirely comprised of Wielders, making Stratagram travel impractical — and of course, it was generally a bad idea to mobilize hundreds at once that way, with such a high risk of people accidentally landing on top of each other (or, in the case of one infamous freak accident, in each other).

war war war freak accident

This close, I could see spiderwebs of dark veins beneath the pale skin around his eyes.

He reached into his pocket and shoved a vial into Eslyn’s hand. “Go with her,” he said. “And use this to help.” Eslyn frowned at her hand. “Is this—?” “You know what it is,” Zeryth said, but I could barely hear him, my blood now pounding in my ears.

“I wear your stories on my skin just as they are in my blood.” “If only that was the only thing your blood carried.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad, to burn together,” Max murmured, lips against my ear. “Would it? You want that. I know you do.”

“The temples were beautiful,” Caduan said, quietly. And he paused, as if remembering, a mournful smile at his lips. Then he looked back at the fire, and it was gone. “But when the humans came, they crumbled just as easily as the brothels. And the scholars and the whores ended up in the same graves.”

“I am not calm, Aefe.” He stepped closer, eyes burning, jaw tight. “I am on fire.”

“Are you feeling alright, Zeryth? You don’t look well.” Zeryth gave him a cold smile. “I feel perfectly fine.” “Mm.” Iya leaned back in his chair. “As I said. There are some things, some magics, that are not worth the cost.” Did I imagine the way that his eyes landed on me before moving back down the table?

A grim realization settled over me. We couldn’t fight like this. But I could do something more. Even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want him to see what I was.

And then I felt an unfamiliar magic bubbling up within me. Ishqa’s magic. My greatest shame. My curse. This was my horrible gift — my ability to steal the magic of others. It was such a dirty, shameful thing that I barely knew how to use it. I had never done this before with magic so unfamiliar to my own, never mind a power that would force my very body to change.

Sometimes, when we were in close proximity, my magic could feel something strange pulsing off of his — like a song that was off-key in a way I couldn’t pin. As time passed, the notes grew more sour. After one meeting when Zeryth could barely string a sentence together, I noticed that his wrist — the same arm where my curse was tattooed on his forearm — was bruised and swollen. He was always in the worst condition after our battles, although he himself never fought.

“You are an Essnera,” Ishqa said, at last.

A’Maril — magic toxicity sickness.

Maybe one day you’ll stand where I do. You’ll cut away every weakness. You’ll make every sacrifice. And then the world will look at you and sneer at your inhumanity, as if you didn’t just become everything they told you to be.”

Home was a pair of mismatched eyes, an accented voice, and a heartbeat that followed the same cadence as mine. And I was so, so homesick.

One second, and I was yanking away Vardir’s hands— Another, and he lunged for me. I was pinned on the floor, Vardir leaning over me. “How did I miss it?” he breathed. “Until now, I didn’t see—”

“They’re coming for us,” he said. “Because of you.“

“I can’t believe I didn’t see, they’re coming, they’re coming, I can’t believe I didn’t—”

At one point, Max stopped short, his face snapping off down the hall, frozen. “What?” I asked. “What are you looking at?” No answer. “Max—” He turned away, pale. “Let’s just get out of here.” I could have sworn I heard a voiceless whisper: Stay. {Go,} Reshaye whispered. {Faster.}

You escaped me once.

spoke back and forth. A figure emerged from the smoke. It was a human man. His hair was white, though he did not look old, and his eyes so starkly silver that even from this distance, they glinted through the shadows. He was tall and thin, with a smattering of silver facial hair, wearing laced-up battle clothing. He stopped and spoke to the stone-wielding man — and then turned to me.

interest. As he drew close enough for the bloody light of flames to catch his face, it revealed a garish scar that extended from the right corner of his mouth all the way to his ear.

“Tell me why you are doing this,” Caduan demanded, and I had never heard his voice like this before, raw and agonized. “Tell me why you’re killing my people.”

“You did not let me fight my war alone,” she said. “And I won’t let you fight yours alone, either.”

“I have won Zeryth Aldris’s war,” I said. “And now I will win ours. We are the children of fallen gods and lost empires. We are the memories of bones in the plains. And we are more than they ever thought we would be.”

“I love you,” I choked out. Love. The word was all I had. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.

“They deserve to feel the way I did, Serel. The way I felt when I saw your face again—” Serel’s fingers tightened around my hand, and I paused, to keep my voice from breaking. “There is no sacrifice too great for that.”

No matter how… godlike… you looked out there, no matter how many feats of magic you pull off, no matter how much you wish you were more, you’re just a person. And I wouldn’t trade the person for the figurehead. Not for anything. I’d rather have a friend than a savior.”

“You were already my savior,” I murmured. “And you are my friend. And I’m so grateful to you for it.” He patted my hand and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Just be careful, Tisaanah.”

“Your tattoos are beautiful,”

Get up, a voice inside me begged. This is dangerous.

“Always, you listen to words that are not belonging of you. I want…” He stumbled, struggling. “I want to give you, to speak of you, in your words. Your… voice.”

I wanted to argue, wanted to force him to turn around, tear apart the world to search for Caduan. But I had felt that connection between us sever. I watched him fall.

Have you ever thought about what it might be like to be with me forever?

“Then let’s end one war,” I spat. “And then we will end another.” I was so furious that I didn’t even notice that Ishqa turned away without answering, his face tilted to the sky.

“I suggest you tell me what, exactly, you’re doing in our house,” Max said, “and who we can thank for such unpleasant gifts.”

You are in great danger. There are more coming for you. And worse, for your people.

Move quickly. Use the Stratagram on the paper beneath. I will explain.

next words came as if they could hear him: I cannot make you trust me. But they will be coming for you in seconds. And your people need you now to stop something worse.

“You have earned your place in any afterlife,” he murmured. “Sidnee or Wyshraj. Any god worth worshipping would grant it to you. And if there’s an afterlife that would deny you entry, I do not want to be there, either.”

“If we die tomorrow, it was an honor to fight next to you, Ishqa.” He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “Likewise, Aefe, Teirness of the House of Obsidian. It has been an honor.”

“I know you.” Tisaanah’s voice came in a gasp, like she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud. “I know you,” she breathed again. The man stepped forward, and I matched the movement, my weapon raised.