BooksBarbecue
Back The Ones We Burn
Chapters (93)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One: Skra: Sixty Days Remain
  5. PART ONE SKRA SIXTY DAYS REMAIN
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4 Two weeks later
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. Part Two: Monster: Twenty-Five Days Remain
  25. PART TWO MONSTER TWENTY-FIVE DAYS REMAIN
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. Part Three: Butcher: Six Days Remain
  40. PART THREE BUTCHER SIX DAYS REMAIN
  41. 32
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. 49
  59. 50
  60. 51
  61. 52
  62. 53
  63. Part Four: Bloodwinn: Coup Successful
  64. PART FOUR BLOODWINN COUP SUCCESSFUL
  65. 54
  66. 55
  67. 56
  68. 57
  69. 58
  70. 59
  71. 60
  72. 61
  73. 62
  74. 63
  75. 64
  76. 65
  77. 66
  78. 67
  79. 68
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. 77
  89. 78
  90. 79
  91. 80 EPILOGUE Three months later
  92. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  93. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Everyone turned.

Gone was Percy’s mocking smile, his airy humor. The boy stood quietly, his face grim.

“I’ll go,” Percy repeated. “I met Ursay at the ball—and I know more than anyone the cost of letting winalin rage free. I can convince them.”

He needed this. Winalin haunted him, would always haunt him, if Percy didn’t do everything in his power to undo the damage it had wrought. He rose, pulled Aramis into a tight hug, and made for the door.

“Percy,” Ranka said suddenly. “Tell Ursay—tell them I won’t waste my chance. Tell Ursay the Bloodwinn intends to keep her promise.”

He held her stare, a question in his eyes, and nodded. Ranka had the uncanny sense she was looking into a mirror of what her life might have looked like had she made different choices.

I thought you were braver.

Maybe she could be yet.

“All right,” Aramis said quietly, her eyes burning. “Now how do we get my brother back?”

67

THE TUNNELS WERE CRAMPED.

It was strange how familiar they’d become. The long, sloping caverns of dried salt might have been a comfort were it not for the stench of death that permeated them.

Ranka led the way. Foldrey and Aramis both bore torches, as did two men who brought up the rear. They wore no gold pins, but from the loathing in their eyes when they regarded Ranka, they were clearly Hands.

They’d been walking for an hour when the screaming began.

It was far away, but unmistakable. At least five voices, pitched in horror, cut short as soon as they’d started. Ranka’s skin crawled. Aramis looked to her with a question in her eyes, as if expecting her to want to run to their aid, but Ranka turned away. It could have been anyone in those tunnels—but it was no question what had killed them.

A small, dark fire sparked to life in her heart.

Ongrum had done this—and Foldrey had helped. They’d both unleashed this terror on the world, turned witches’ bodies into weapons, turning them against their own.

It would end today, one way or another.

Ranka drew a prayer sigil on her chest and kept walking.

She recited the plan in her head. Aramis and Foldrey would free the Hands who were imprisoned and rally the rest serving in the palace. Meanwhile, Ranka would approach the arena where Galen was likely to be executed and stall Ongrum by turning herself in.

The ground shifted under their feet. The air was warmer here, drier, as salt caverns shifted from rock to hand-laid stone. Foldrey and Aramis put out their torches. The weak light of the dungeons flickered ahead of them.

Ranka’s heart quickened.