Master of Sorrows (The Silent Gods #1)

Titus slowly emerged from behind the sacks of grain, his blond curls tousled, one round cheek slashed and bleeding. With tears streaming down his face, the boy picked up the fallen throwing knife, shrieked, and hurled the weapon at Copper-cap’s back.

The feurog turned in surprise, pivoting to catch the spike in his loins. He groaned, doubling over as he clutched at the wound and dropped his rapier.

The door at the back of the room suddenly flew open, revealing Fyn holding a torch and a bloody flanged mace. The avatar stared at the scene, eyes darting between the injured feurog and Annev’s flaming sword.

‘Youuu …’ the feurog groaned, twisting towards Annev, then falling against a sack of grain.

Fyn’s eyes were wide with accusation. ‘Bloody Son of Keos,’ he swore, taking a step in Annev’s direction.

‘Stop!’ Titus shouted, stepping forward. ‘He was helping me, Fyn!’

Copper-cap wrenched the dagger from his guts and fell to his knees. With one hand still clutching his belly, he lifted the bloody knife, preparing to stab Titus in the back.

‘No!’ Annev jumped forward, falling to his knees as he thrust his flamberge into the feurog’s thinly plated back. The sword twisted, grinding its wavy blade against metal and flesh. Copper-cap groaned in response, his arm faltering.

Fyn knocked Titus out of the way and lifted his mace above Annev’s head. ‘Bloody Son of Keos!’ he growled again.

Annev instinctively raised his buckler, hoping its magic would be enough to save him from Fyn’s attack, but knowing in his heart that he hadn’t the strength to ward off the blow.

Fyn swung hard and the flanged points of the mace blasted through the top of the feurog’s skull. Copper-cap twitched, his knife falling from his hands, and the feurog toppled dead to the floor.





Chapter Sixty-Seven




Fyn spat on the mangled mess that was all that remained of the feurog’s face, wiped his brow, and pointed his bloody mace at Annev.

‘Did you kill Narach and Brayan?’ he asked bluntly.

Annev shook his head, rising slowly to his feet and leaving the extinguished flamberge in the monster’s back. ‘Brayan is still alive. He was coming up the stairs behind me. Narach was killed by the feurog.’

‘The feurog. Are those the shadow demons?’

The hair on the back of Annev’s neck stood on end. ‘Shadow demons? No.’ Annev pointed at Copper-cap. ‘These are the feurog – the monsters with metal and rock growing out of their bodies. What demons are you talking about?’

Fyn took a deep breath. ‘Black things with long arms and clawed hands. They come out of the shadows and grab you. They got Jasper. Pulled him right through a wall. I heard him scream for help, but there was nothing I could do. Couldn’t even see him.’

Titus looked at Annev, his eyes wide. ‘There was one with Master Brayan, when those monsters broke through the doors. It reached for me and I ran … straight into that.’ He pointed at Copper-cap.

Annev reached for his flamberge but stopped when Fyn nudged him with the head of his mace. ‘Did you bring the monsters here, as Tosan claims?’

‘Silver staves,’ Annev swore. ‘No, I didn’t. At least, not on purpose.’

Fyn’s eyes narrowed into slits. ‘What does that mean?’

Annev sighed. ‘You remember that shadow on the rooftops in Banok? The one I saw on the way to Janak’s?’ Fyn nodded. ‘Well, it disappeared, but I saw it again when I was leaving. It chased me.’

‘And you think it followed you here?’ Fyn asked. ‘Why?’

Annev paused, wondering how best to respond. It was pointless to mention Breathanas or the prophecy about killing Keos, particularly when he didn’t believe any of it himself, but how else could he explain the monsters that were hunting him? He thought about the Shadow that had pursued him outside of Banok, remembering how agitated it had become after seeing his missing arm, and he knew what he had to do.

Annev sighed and unbelted the steel buckler from his arm. He handed the shield to Titus and lifted his limb for Fyn to see. The avatar took a step back, his face aghast.

‘Blood and bones,’ Fyn breathed. ‘It’s true then. You’re a Son of Keos.’

Annev shook his head, returning his stunted forearm to his side. ‘I’m not a demon, and I don’t worship Keos. I lost my prosthetic hand at Janak’s. When the shadow saw my real arm, he came for me. I’m not sure why, but I think they’re related.’

Fyn snorted. ‘Are you stupid? He came to claim you for Keos!’ Annev shook his head, but Fyn wasn’t finished. ‘What about the metal demons? The feurog.’

‘I saw them for the first time two nights ago in the Brakewood with the pedlar. They attacked us and we killed most of them. One escaped.’ Annev paused, his stomach churning. ‘It might have followed me back.’

Fyn swore under his breath. ‘You’re saying every time you leave the village you bring a monster back with you.’ He tightened his grip on his weapon. ‘How does that not make you a Son of Keos?’

Annev’s temper flared. ‘Damn it, Fyn!’ He reached for the flamberge and jerked it free in one fluid motion, its blade bursting into flame. Fyn stepped back and Annev pointed his sword at the dead feurog. ‘I’m fighting them, Fyn, not helping them. If you’re too stupid to see that, attack me and be done with it. Stop wasting my time.’

Fyn straightened, the change in Annev’s tone making him uncertain. He studied the red cloak and brown boots, the fiery flamberge and the bloody gashes on Annev’s shoulders. Finally, he squinted at Annev’s forearm. ‘Well,’ he huffed, ‘if you’re not a Son of Keos, you’re one unlucky bastard.’ He nodded at the flaming sword. ‘Where’d you get that anyway? Janak’s?’

Annev shook his head. ‘The Vault. I had to borrow a few things, like clothes. I didn’t have much choice.’

Fyn nodded, still studying the flamberge’s blue-white flames. ‘That might come in handy. The shadows … they shied away from flames. I think that’s why they grabbed Jasper instead of me.’

‘If that’s true, we should each be carrying a source of light.’ Annev set down his weapon and pulled the phoenix lantern from his cloak, handing it to Fyn. ‘Show Titus how to use it.’

Fyn set down his mace and torch, then showed Titus how to twist the lantern on and off. The blond boy’s eyes widened, impressed, then he took the carving to try it himself.

‘Where are you going?’ Fyn asked, still watching Titus.

‘To save Sodar.’

‘Master Aog said they tied the priest up by the well.’ As Fyn spoke, Titus pressed the carving’s two hidden buttons and twisted. Light blazed from the feathers and flames of the phoenix, further brightening the torchlit room. ‘I can probably take you to him.’

‘Please,’ Annev said. He nodded at the lightning shield Titus still carried. ‘You should strap that on, too, Titus. It’ll cover more of you than me, and you can hold the lantern in your shield hand while you carry a weapon.’

‘Really?’ Titus said, tucking the lantern under his arm. ‘How did you make the lightning work?’

‘Just use it like you would a shield. It’ll do the rest – it’s a common artifact, like the lantern.’

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