The Monster Baru Cormorant
Chapters (49)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Map
- Epigraph
- Prelude
- Act One: The Fall of the Elided Keep
- 1. In the Ruin of Them
- 2. Incarnation
- Interlude: The War Paper
- 3. The Lever
- 4. Neath the Dead Dog’s Tongue
- 5. The End of History
- 6. The Lightning in the East
- A Story About Ash 1
- 7. Hesychast, Whose Flesh Is a Temple
- 8. Dinner, Destiny …
- 9. … and Durance
- 10. The Killing Woman
- Interlude: RNS Sulane
- Interlude: Admiralty War Plot
- Act Two: The Fall of the Llosydanes
- 11. Scytales and Shao Lune
- 12. The Llosydanes
- 13. Baru’s Dates
- A Story About Ash 2
- 14. Is the Oath Kept?
- 15. If I Tallied My Life Today
- 16. Tau-indi
- 17. The Mask Beneath the Mesa
- Interlude: The Llosydanes
- Interlude: The Mansion Hussacht
- Act Three: The Fall of Kyprananoke
- 18. Metagames
- 19. Cheetah
- 20. Glass Pierces Cheek
- A Story About Ash 3
- 21. The Map Entire
- 22. Baru in the Bilge
- A Story About Ash 4
- 23. The Pithing Needle
- 24. Iraji
- 25. The Embassy
- 26. The Black Emmenia
- Eternal
- Acknowledgments
- Books by Seth Dickinson
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Title Page
Copyright Notice
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Dedication
FOR MARCO
Thanks for waiting
Map
Epigraph
A QUESTION
If something hurts, does that make it true?
Prelude
PRELUDE
AS the firestorm took his ships, as a monsoon rain of greasy incendiaries burnt his people like screaming human skewers, Abdumasi Abd tried his very damnedest to die.
“Fire parties to the port rail!” cried his battle captain, poor Zee Dbellu, who had come to war with Abdumasi to avenge his grandmother. He was a big dreadlocked man with a green flag bound to his war-spear and a false hope in his voice. He was already dead. Abdumasi had to join him.
“Turn the ship to sea!” Zee bellowed. “Run out the sweeps, soak the rowers, beat the drums! We’ll get out of this yet, I promise you, I promise!”
The fire parties were all dead. The masts had toppled and the rowers lay suffocated at their broken oars. Masquerade rocket arrows had pinned all the corpses to the deck like rare butterflies.
Abdumasi looked up at Zee from under the fallen sail, where he’d crawled to hide. Beyond Zee he could see a sliver of the battle—burning masts and broken ships, arcs of hwacha-fire scratching terrible perfect curves out of the sky, war rockets that crashed down into wood and waves to bloom into blue-white fire. Dead gulls. Vortices of killed fish. The stink of Falcrest chemistry. The scream of fire and the groan of broken hullplanks and beneath it all the ebb and rush of the sea, tumbling the burning dead, stirring the pot of fire and wreckage.
A disaster. A catastrophe. And he had ordered it.
He’d brought his fleet to Aurdwynn to help their rebellion against the Masquerade. He’d joined the rebel armada at Welthony and together they’d struck Treatymont, the colonial capital: a gray cage of ironwork and stone to the north, and two burnt-out towers guarding the harbor like rotten dog teeth.
But the Masquerade had been waiting for them.
“Zee,” Abdumasi whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
And he put his sailing knife under his chin and tried to cut his own throat.
He couldn’t do it. He was too afraid.
“Abdumasi!” Zee howled. “Abdu, where are you? We need you!”