Chapters (58)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Epilogue
- Places and Terms
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Copyright
The guard dealt Bras an open-palmed smack that took up most of the poor man’s face. A fresh spray of blood spackled the floorboards. Kit watched in silence as Bras was hauled out of the chair, gurgling and spitting and shouting, too weak to struggle against the huge man’s grip as they left out the room’s main door.
Anji felt her gorge rise again.
Kit motioned for Anji to sit as though nothing untoward had just happened. Anji settled onto the cushion and watched Kit dose herself.
“Wonderful, isn’t it?” the woman said, chuckling, her laughter cracking like glass. “Our first batch since Rolandrian got pricked. Linura is in such an uproar—we’ve been able to move much easier. Of course you’ll know all about that.” The woman ran a hand through her hair and sat forward on the couch as Devas came through the door once more with a tray balanced on one hand. He stepped through the tangle of legs and furniture and set the tray on the table. A green unmarked bottle sat atop the tray along with three bulbous wineglasses. The woman waved Devas away and he returned to his place at the door.
“My name is Jorgina, by the way,” the woman said, pouring the wine into the glasses. “But for you, Gina will do.” She eyed the level in her glass, poured an extra bit, and set the bottle down.
“A pleasure,” Kit said, taking a sip from her glass and prompting Anji to do the same. The wine was delicious. Anji couldn’t remember the last time she’d tasted something like it.
“To the host,” said Kit, raising her glass, “and to the death.”
Anji spit her wine out. She looked from Kit to the woman on the couch. Gina ignored her, one leg folded over the other, the wineglass—nearly empty now—balanced in one hand on her knee. Her voice was solid and firm when she spoke, however. “Are you ready?”
“Another moment, if you please,” Kit said, taking a steady breath. She drained her glass and set it down. “What news from Linura?”
What news from—what the fuck is going on?
Anji inched back in her seat, clutching the wineglass like it was her last anchor to sanity.