Cover

Tread of Angels

Rebecca Roanhorse

New York Times Bestselling Author of Black Sun

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Title Page

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Dedication

For those in need of a little redemption

CHAPTER 1

It was the devil’s hour on Aventum Angelorum, Goetia’s own high holy day, and there was a black wind blowing off Tabor’s mine. It slithered down the mountain past the places where the old gods of the continent had once held sway. It rolled through the mining town below, called Goetia, snatching hats off heads and shivering shoulders. It wormed its way through the holiday merrymakers on Perdition Street, whispering memories of heavenly war, of bright Lucifer’s doomed defiance, and the sweet aftertaste of rebellion cloyed noses and mouths, making those who breathed it in discontent and covetous.

When it hit the Eden, Perdition Street’s premiere gambling and drinking establishment, it nearly blew the place down. Wood hit sharp against wood as the front doors flew open, and the glass pane bearing the saloon’s moniker cracked straight through. The ruckus drew startled screams and cries of drunken surprise from the patrons, masked faces turning to see what, or who, had entered. A few of the witchier clientele threw a hex to turn evil away, but there was enough vice already squatting in the Eden that whatever extra ungodliness the wind blew in didn’t faze most of the regulars.

At first, Celeste Semyaza didn’t even feel that old wind licking against her cheek. She was sitting in the dealer’s chair at the faro table, focused on the game before her. But when the cards jumped up, kings and jack fools dancing wild in the sudden gale, she spread her hands across the cards to keep ’em down. The three players in front of her did the same, stretching arms and bodies over potential winners… and inevitable losers.