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Back The Drowned Cities Save as PDF
Chapters (53)
  1. Welcome
  2. Dedication
  3. PART ONE
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. PART TWO
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. Contents
  53. Copyright

Glenn Stern leaned close, intent. Mahlia gathered her strength, and spat full in the man’s face.

“I still want my fingers back!” she shouted.

The Colonel reared back, yelling and wiping spittle from his eyes. He glared at her. “You—”

Quick as a cobra he slapped her. Once, twice, thrice. Mahlia’s head rocked back, her face flaming. Stern struck again. Pain exploded between Mahlia’s eyes as he pounded her already broken nose. A spike of obliterating pain. Blood gushed down her face.

Mahlia cried out, despite the painkillers. She was almost blind with hurt, but still she forced herself to meet the man’s gaze. “That what you got?” Her voice cracked. “That all?”

“You’d like more?” Glenn Stern raised his hand again.

A low growl filled the marbled room, heavy with threat. They both turned at the sound. The half-man was watching them both.

“I do not accept your offer,” Tool said. “I will not war on your behalf.”

Glenn Stern looked from Mahlia to Tool, and back again. Mahlia smiled.

Stern said, “You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

“ ’Cause you’ll hurt me some more?” Mahlia let her head roll back against the column. “That was always the way it was going to be. You got your war and I’m just meat in the gears. So hurry up, old man. Grind me up.”

Suddenly, Lieutenant Sayle appeared. “I have a solution, I think.”

Mahlia didn’t like the way he smiled as he murmured into the Colonel’s ear. Glenn Stern’s expression hardened as he listened. He turned to Mahlia.

“You want fingers, girl? I can get you fingers.”

43

OCHO AND THE REST of the platoon were huddled in a corner of the palace, a huge round room surrounded by more columns and statuary. Ammunition and weapons were stockpiled all around, watched over by more Eagle Guards.

Every once in a while, another round from the 999s whistled in, and Ocho kept expecting a shell to just come smashing through and hit the ordnance and blow them all up, but so far the rubble overhead seemed to be protecting them.

He crouched beside Ghost. The boy was staring at the marble and tile floor. All sorts of intricate patterns covered it, decorative knots and geometric tangles running along the floor to where they were hidden under crates of weaponry.

“You okay, warboy?”

Ghost just shrugged. Ocho didn’t like the look on Ghost’s face. Too doubtful, too withdrawn, too haunted.

He’d thought that the boy was fully recruited, but now he was wondering. Using him for bait to get the half-man had been a risk. But now that it was over, the boy should have been pulling back together. It wasn’t like every soldier in the platoon hadn’t had to prove loyalty at one point or another.