mind for the memory for some, for any, bolt-hole. “C‘mon, Graize, c’mon, you wanna die tonight? Think, think, think,” he chanted to himself, using the words to try and clear his mind gone suddenly, frighteningly, cloudy. “Where you gonna go? Find somewhere, find anywhere.” His eyes wide and unfocused, he raked his gaze across the docks, then gave a sharp nod as a sudden breath of icy wind cleared his mind. “All right, I know a place. It’s not much, but it’ll be safe. C‘mon.”
Together they raced down the pier.
Across the city, four of the Gods’ six main temples were preparing to meet the Second Night of Havo’s Dance in the same manner as the rest of Anavatan, with fastened shutters and bolted doors, while at Havo-Sarayi the festivities were already in full swing, the revelry invoking their God as surely as any ritual, and at Estavia-Sarayi the Battle God’s warriors prepared to obey Her command.
In the seer’s shrine, Cyan Company held its collective breath as Kemal drew his sword. Dropping to one knee, he held the weapon out across his palms, offering his worship and his service to the God of Battles. As the rest of his company followed his lead a heartbeat later, he felt Estavia’s presence within him begin to stir. At his signal, Bazmin tolled the shrine’s wide, bronze bell once.
The sound echoed across the temple’s empty courtyards. To the east, the great bell of Lazim-Hisar responded, then one by one, each stronghold from the smallest of the city gates to the largest of the village watchtowers signaled their readiness. With a deep breath taken to still the sudden pounding in his chest, Kemal began the Invocation.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my strength!”
On Liman-Caddesi, Incasa’s four boys reached the fishing boat at the same time. Brax immediately pushed Spar behind him and drew his knife. With a snarl, Drove did the same and, as the rain turned to hail, he attacked.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my blood!”
The waters of Gol-Beyaz began to swirl as each company, each garrison, and each tower took up the call, channeling their power through Kemal to their God, struggling to break the constraints of another Deity’s territorial hold on the physical realm. His body shaking with the force of their combined strength, he gripped his weapon by the hilt, sweeping it upward to point toward the domed ceiling high above his head.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my worship!”
“Spar, get under there!”
Swinging his own knife in a tight arc, Brax kept Drove at bay as Spar threw himself against the boat. It shifted slightly, but then he was tugging his own knife free as Graize darted around Brax’s flank.
Shifting his blade from one hand to another, the pale-eyed boy smiled coldly.
“Hey, Spar, you wanna move or you wanna die?” he asked conversationally.
Spar’s own eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as Graize leaped forward, only to come face-to-face with Brax as the other boy jumped between them. Graize showed his teeth at him as Drove edged closer.
“You can’t hold us both off forever, Brax. Better run now while you still can,” he sneered.
Squinting into the growing darkness, Brax snapped his head from side to side, trying to keep both opponents in view. A spattering of hail scored across his cheek and, as he flinched back, Drove swept in under his guard to slice through his sleeve, leaving a thin, red line along his arm.
Beyond the ancient wall of stone and power the spirits reared up, alert to the sudden call of blood and pain. As Brax took a staggered step backward, they threw themselves at the barrier and, as Drove brought his knife slashing down again, they broke through en masse for the first time in a millennium.
The streets of Anavatan filled with a broiling, blood-flecked mist. Within it, driven along by the wind, the spirits sucked up whatever power they could snatch from the tiny creatures in their path, then turned toward the
Together they raced down the pier.
Across the city, four of the Gods’ six main temples were preparing to meet the Second Night of Havo’s Dance in the same manner as the rest of Anavatan, with fastened shutters and bolted doors, while at Havo-Sarayi the festivities were already in full swing, the revelry invoking their God as surely as any ritual, and at Estavia-Sarayi the Battle God’s warriors prepared to obey Her command.
In the seer’s shrine, Cyan Company held its collective breath as Kemal drew his sword. Dropping to one knee, he held the weapon out across his palms, offering his worship and his service to the God of Battles. As the rest of his company followed his lead a heartbeat later, he felt Estavia’s presence within him begin to stir. At his signal, Bazmin tolled the shrine’s wide, bronze bell once.
The sound echoed across the temple’s empty courtyards. To the east, the great bell of Lazim-Hisar responded, then one by one, each stronghold from the smallest of the city gates to the largest of the village watchtowers signaled their readiness. With a deep breath taken to still the sudden pounding in his chest, Kemal began the Invocation.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my strength!”
On Liman-Caddesi, Incasa’s four boys reached the fishing boat at the same time. Brax immediately pushed Spar behind him and drew his knife. With a snarl, Drove did the same and, as the rain turned to hail, he attacked.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my blood!”
The waters of Gol-Beyaz began to swirl as each company, each garrison, and each tower took up the call, channeling their power through Kemal to their God, struggling to break the constraints of another Deity’s territorial hold on the physical realm. His body shaking with the force of their combined strength, he gripped his weapon by the hilt, sweeping it upward to point toward the domed ceiling high above his head.
“God of Battles, I pledge you my worship!”
“Spar, get under there!”
Swinging his own knife in a tight arc, Brax kept Drove at bay as Spar threw himself against the boat. It shifted slightly, but then he was tugging his own knife free as Graize darted around Brax’s flank.
Shifting his blade from one hand to another, the pale-eyed boy smiled coldly.
“Hey, Spar, you wanna move or you wanna die?” he asked conversationally.
Spar’s own eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as Graize leaped forward, only to come face-to-face with Brax as the other boy jumped between them. Graize showed his teeth at him as Drove edged closer.
“You can’t hold us both off forever, Brax. Better run now while you still can,” he sneered.
Squinting into the growing darkness, Brax snapped his head from side to side, trying to keep both opponents in view. A spattering of hail scored across his cheek and, as he flinched back, Drove swept in under his guard to slice through his sleeve, leaving a thin, red line along his arm.
Beyond the ancient wall of stone and power the spirits reared up, alert to the sudden call of blood and pain. As Brax took a staggered step backward, they threw themselves at the barrier and, as Drove brought his knife slashing down again, they broke through en masse for the first time in a millennium.
The streets of Anavatan filled with a broiling, blood-flecked mist. Within it, driven along by the wind, the spirits sucked up whatever power they could snatch from the tiny creatures in their path, then turned toward the
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