Page 178 of Brimstone
“There we havewhat?”
“The white cliffs, Osha,” Kingfisher said. “That tells us what to do all by itself. We need to evacuate Cahlish and rally at Inishtar. We should move quickly. I need to open the biggest fucking shadow gate I’ve ever made, and we need to start shifting the troops. We have to get everyone to safety.”
“That’s the plan?” Danya said, voice stony. “Retreat?Based on a single line of scribble in a book? I know your mother was a powerful oracle, but this is ridiculous.”
“What else are we supposed to do, Danya? This isn’t an army we can face and fight. Our weapons can’t kill it. Our magicfeedsit, for fuck’s sake. Every person it infects becomes our enemy in the space of moments. We need to regroup and figure out how to—”
“We needbrimstone.” The room went deathly silent for a moment. Danya’s chest heaved when she continued. “Lorreth told me about what happened with Archer. He said that infected feeder was killed instantly when the brimstone came into contact with it. With enough brimstone, we could stop the rot in its tracks here, before it infects the rest of the fucking realm—”
“All right.” Fisher shoved away from the covered table and stormed across the room. He reached for a dagger from the scabbard at his waist and slammed it against Danya’s chest. “Go on, then. Go down into the pyre and start killing our friends. Orwait. No.” He took the knife back. “I’ll do it, shall I? I’ll go down there, and I’ll drain the creatures who swore to serve and protect my fam—”
“You’re being dramatic—”
They shouted over one another, their words lost to their anger. Lorreth cut them both off. “STOP YELLING, BOTH OF YOU!”
The pair fell silent . . . but only for a second. “You’ve forgotten how to lead,” Danya accused. “If you find yourself unequal to the task, then step aside. Sometimessacrificesneed to be made.”
The laughter that bubbled out of my mate was scathing and short-lived. “I know,” he said slowly, “that anyone willing to forfeit the lives of their people and tally their loss as collateral damage is no leader. Certainly not the kind of leader that I willeverbe—”
“Then maybe you’re just not cut for the role,” Danya snapped.
Helpless: That’s how it felt, watching them fight like this. But if Danya spoke to Fisher one more time like that, I was going to fucking spear her to the fucking wall.
Lorreth held up his hands in a placating gesture, again attempting to be the voice of reason. “You’re both right. We should absolutely evacuate Cahlish. And yes, the brimstone is our best chance of destroying this infection. But wedon’tneed to cull the sprites to gather enough brimstone to accomplish that, do we? Thereisanother way.”
Fisher was already shaking his head. I’d never seen him look more vehement. “No. Absolutely not.”
There was a note of hysteria in Danya’s laughter. “You’re out of your fuckingmind, bard.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What’s the other way?”
“No,”Fisher repeated. “Lorreth’s wrong. There is no other way.” His tone brooked no argument.
“So that’s that, then? You want to leave the place you fought so hard to get back to, with no plan and no idea of how we’re going to get through any of this?” Danya demanded.
“We will figure it out.” Fisher’s voice was firm, but Danya did not look impressed. Even Lorreth looked a little uncertain.
“Come on. We’re not doing anyone any good standing here fighting among ourselves,” the warrior said.
“All mad as dogs,” Danya hissed under her breath as she stalked out of the room.
Fisher pointed the business end of his blade at her as she went. “So help me, Danya, I will kill you my fucking self if you touch a singleoneof those sprites.”
“Fisher—”
He faced me quickly, his pallor ghostly and haunted. He placed a kiss against my forehead and then pulled away. “I know what you’re going to ask. I know you want to understand. And Iwillexplain,” he said. “I promise I will. Just . . . right now, I need a moment. And yourbrotherneeds you, Osha.” He nodded his head toward the window. The rain sheeted against the glass, but I could still make out the single figure, standing out there alone on the snowy lawn. How long had he been out there, standing in the downpour? How had I not noticed him? “Go to him,” Fisher said. “I’ll come find you soon, I swear it.”
He wasn’t wearing any shoes.
His hair was soaked and flat against his scalp, his curls driven straight by the downpour. Hayden stared up at the sky, a deep frown carving into his forehead. He didn’t look at me when I arrived beside him, but he knew I was there. I held the jacket over my head, mostly to protect myself from the deluge, butalso to ward off the bleak sunlight eking through the thick cloud cover overhead.
“What’s going on, Hay?” Our mother had called him that. After her death, I’d refused to use the name for fear of invoking her memory. It destroyed me when that happened, and I couldn’t keep him afloat if we werebothdrowning. Weak of me, that. I should have let him keep the name she’d called him. Should have let him keep that piece of her.
“I—I don’t know who I’m supposed to be here, Saeris. Everything’s just so . . .different,” he said.
“I know. Itisdifferent. There’s a lot to get used to. But different doesn’t have to bebad, does it?”
He blinked, the rain running into his eyes. He looked bewildered. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean . . . this?” He wiped the rain from his face, shaking his head. Droplets of water ran over his palm, dripping down into the snow. “I had no idea a place like this could exist.” He swallowed. Looked at me at last. “Who am I supposed tobehere, Saeris?”
