Page 10 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

He looked at me quizzically. “You’re telling me you didn’t kill him?”

“Never!” I struggled to my feet, forced myself to breathe deep.

“If you were hoping to catch his powers, you’re too late. We saw them ascend as we arrived.”

“Then he…hedidn’t get them either. Good. That’s good.” Some consolation, at least.

“He?”

“The man with the sword.”

“The man you mistook me for?”

“I…assumed.”

He straightened and faced me. When he saw my hair, his face fell slack, but he quickly recovered. “Then it’s lucky I wasn’t alone.” He nodded to his big friend, the one who had lifted me like a child. Thick horns protruded from the sides of that one’s head, though the rest of him was human enough.

The huge man snorted at me for good measure.

“I was…blinded with rage,” I told them. “I apologize.”

“Looks old,” said the first man, and nodded at the head lying alone by the fire.

I intended to shoo them both away from my master, but the big one stepped into my path. But big meant slow, so I feinted to my left, and when he turned to catch me, I passed on his right, then fought to catch my balance before falling on the pile of Demius’ robes.

Before I could stop him, the first man poked the head with his finger, and it rolled. “Faybowse,” he muttered.

Faybowse.To find death. Not by dragon, not by accident.

As if summoned by the word alone, the man who’d killed Demius strode into our midst. “Surely, you don’t mean to linger here.”

Blindly, I reached for a large chunk of the shattered rain-catcher and lifted it, sure that I could fell this brazen killer with one blow, then beat him until he, too, found faybowse. But again, something caught my wrist, and my fury left my chest in the form of a squalling scream.

“How dare you?” The beast pulled the wood from my hand and threw it into the fire. His gaze bore into mine and told me this time, I would not be released.

The killer stared at me, his mouth agape. “What have I done?”

I swung my body toward him and spat, aiming for his eyes. “How dare I? You’ve killed him! An original! An Everfolk! May the Severe God torture you for eternity!”

The horned one snorted again. “Tearloch, she’s mad. Let me put her out of her misery.”

“No. I don’t think she’s mad at all.” The first man, Tearloch, came to stand by the killer and turned him so his face was well lit by the fire. Then he addressed me. “The man with the sword…looked like this man?”

“Just like.”

“Look closely.”

The hate in my belly eased a little when I realized this one was missing a few things. “He must have cut off his beard, removed his hood. But he’s the man.”

Anger flashed in Tearloch’s eyes, and his jaw flexed. “This is not the man.” He lowered his chin, his eyes shrouded in shadow. “He is his brother. Trust me when I say the guilty one will pay for this Everkind’s life, along with others.”

I shook my head. “He must swear it. Swear it to Hestia you did not touch him!”

The killer’s supposed brother knelt on one knee to press his hand to the ground, where red rock mingled with Hestia’s black heartstone. “I swear I did not harm your friend.” Orange light sizzled around the edges of his fingers as Hestia judged his oath, then it faded as quickly as it had come. If he’d lied, the ground lightning would have punished him. I had to believe him.

Yet another version of the killer stepped forward. Pale gold hair. Taller. He too was furious, but he was also concerned for the other one.

I struggled against the giant’s hold. “Anotherbrother?”

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