BooksBarbecue
Back The Ones We Burn Save as PDF
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

A Murknen stepped forward. “Seize her—”

Ongrum held up a hand. “Wait.”

The cliffs quieted. Ongrum stared at Ranka for a long, hard moment, thirteen years of memories crackling in the air between them. A cold smile lit Ongrum’s face. “Very well, witchling. You want a fight? You’ll have it.”

Galen shouted through his gag. Ranka couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

Foldrey had asked Ranka to distract Ongrum.

She was about to give him the distraction of a lifetime.

Ongrum raised her voice. “In my three decades of leading the Skra, seventeen witches have challenged me for that right. Seventeen failed.” She held Ranka’s stare. “This will not be a fight of first blood, child. If you wish to take my coven, you’ll also have to take my life.”

Ranka palmed the blade she’d stolen. It was a blunt, worn thing, weighted awkwardly, better suited to sparring drills for new recruits than a proper fight. What she wouldn’t have given for an axe.

“I know,” Ranka said softly.

“Very well.” Ongrum drew a short sword from her hip. “We fight, then.”

A wave of calm settled over her.

It was always meant to end like this—her, and Ongrum.

Ranka turned the blade over in her hand and stepped forward to battle the woman who had raised her.

69

IT WAS RARE FOR A witch to challenge their leader.

Ongrum was reminding Ranka why.

The older witch fought like a whirlwind. She was constantly moving, ducking, weaving. Every time Ranka tried to earn space between them, Ongrum pressed closer. Every time Ranka struck a blow, Ongrum was ready. She fought with more brutality, more cruelty, and more efficiency than Ranka could ever dream of. Ongrum had three decades on her. And seventeen witches who’d thought themselves just as capable as Ranka.

Sweat covered Ranka’s body. She staggered backward, and this time when Ongrum lunged for her, Ranka froze. Her knees locked, and Ongrum seized her. She raised her blade—and then pulled back a moment later, slamming the flat into Ranka’s face. Ranka’s nose broke with a crunch. She jerked backward, her ears ringing, blood dripping down her chin, swaying from the pain.

Ongrum stepped back, a cold smile on her face. She intended to draw this out, to make a lesson out of Ranka. “You disappoint me.”

Ranka wiped the blood from her lips and leapt.

She tackled Ongrum and took her to the ground. Ongrum tore at Ranka’s face, dragged fiery lines down her arms with her fingernails, and Ranka kept fighting. Ongrum placed a foot on her chest and kicked her away. A wild light gleamed in the older woman’s eyes as she lunged for her blade.

I’m going to lose.