Page 9 of Children of Fallen Gods

Syrizen. More than a dozen of them, stepping out of the air as if surging through invisible doors. One grabbed Max and yanked him away from the fighting — others stood with Sammerin, Nura, Eslyn. More still flickered from nothingness. There was so much blood on the ground that my feet slipped against the pier floorboards.

“Hold on,” the Syrizen said into my ear.

“The ship—” I started.

I didn’t get to finish. The world unraveled, and we were gone.

* * *

The sudden silence was deafening.The next thing I knew, my knees were on the ground, wet not with blood but with dew from damp grass, my palms pressed to the earth.

“She fucking burned me!” an aggravated-sounding voice was saying.

“She wouldn’t have if you’d given us a little warning,” Eslyn’s voice grumbled back. “I was two seconds away from taking Vivian’s head off myself.”

I turned my head. Max was beside me, also crouched in the grass. He’d barely scrambled to his hands and knees before he looked to me.

“Are you alright?” he panted, and I nodded.

I pushed myself to my feet and turned to the Syrizen. The one who had saved me, a blond woman with freckled cheeks, was sneering at a dark wound on her wrist. My fault, apparently.

“The ship,” I said. “The refugees were brought back with us—”

“We have the ship,” she said, a little impatiently. “We sent a few Syrizen there, too. They’re bringing it down the coast. Wasthisreally necessary? It’s—”

“Why are we here?”

There was something in Max’s voice that made my head whip around. He had risen to his feet, and now stood completely still, all color drained from his face, eyes locked straight ahead.

For the first time, I noticed our surroundings.

Before us was a mansion. It was beautiful, the exterior crafted of smooth, white stone, covered with gold-plated decorations and sculpture. Gold columns lined its front, cradling a wrought-iron balcony that extended across the whole exterior, breaking only to make way for the massive set of white, arched doors at its entrance. We stood beyond its gates — massive, extravagant things befitting the property that they protected — and a bronze lion stared down at us appraisingly.

Beyond the mansion were mountains. I could barely make out a wall, dotted with large, square buildings, in the distance. Forts, perhaps.

I knew this place.

I knew it, even though I had never been here. Knew it, and couldn’t place it.

I felt Reshaye shift through my thoughts, as if unnerved.

{It has been many days,}it whispered,{since I have seen this place.}

A Syrizen stood at the center of the gates. She was wearing a red sash, wrapped around her waist and pinned to her shoulders so it flowed down her back. She was older than most Syrizen, her hair grey-streaked and bound tightly.

“Come,” she said. “The king wishes to see you.”

The king?

“The king?” Sammerin said.

Even he looked unnerved, eyes slightly wide as he stared at the building before us.

Max looked as if he wasn’t even breathing.

“Why are we here?” he said again.

“The king will explain everything,” the Syrizen said, lightly. “Come.”

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