“Because we deserve what’s coming. We deserve her.” A tear glistened on her cheek. “I’ve heard Malatriant’s voice in my dreams so often in recent days. And Lumestra is no longer here to save us.”

She was mad, Apara decided. A wandering mind lost in a world of prophecy and scripture. “I thought Lumestra was eternal.”

“Only the Dark lasts for ever,” said Lady Marest. “And I’ve no desire to feel it settle in my heart. I’d go to the Raven with my soul still radiant with a reflection of Lumestra’s light . . . So you see how in serving one, you serve us both?”

Apara did. Whatever reward the addled noblewoman sought, she’d wit enough to realise that it would be denied her if she embraced the Raven. She needed another to end her life. So why then did the burden of the coming murder not lessen? “I do.”

“Will you give me this gift?”

Apara hesitated, but what else could she say? “Yes.”

Lady Marest gave a shuddering breath. Her expression lit up with joy pure as the brightest sunlight. Her smile didn’t so much as flicker as Apara slid the stiletto between her ribs.

The kitchen door creaked. Marek stared blearily at the remnants of his evening meal. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t getting any younger. Didn’t mean he couldn’t exercise his frustrations on whichever of his subjects had disturbed a rare moment of quiet. One of the footmen, no doubt, sneaking in for leftovers while he thought his betters asleep.

His chair scraped against tile as he stood. “Quit your sneaking around. You want to feel the flat of my belt?”

The door fell closed, revealing not the expected footman, but Lady Sevaka. Or someone who bore a passing resemblance to Lady Sevaka. In all his years, Marek had never seen her eyes so hard or her skin so pale.

“Marek?” she said, her voice taut as a steel bar. “What has my mother done?”

Tzadas, 6th day of Radiance

Tzadas, 6th day of Radiance

We speak of the Dark as a living being. It is far more – but also far less. Even that splinter that survived Lumestra’s wrath has the power to reshape the world, but it can only act through our flesh and our souls.

Why else would it shape others to its service?

from the sermons of Konor Belenzo

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Six

The sun did not so much rise as slink from beneath the horizon, casting reluctant light on the distant imperial battle lines. The green silks and golden scale of the Immortals. The dark robes and leathers of shieldsmen and outriders. And to the west, no distance at all across the valley’s wheat-fields, the king’s blue tabards among golden crops. Outnumbered. Doomed. Drakos Crovan suspected Lumestra wanted no part of what the day would bring. Nor did he.

“Having second thoughts?” asked Silda Drenn.