Page 69 of The Cruel Dawn
“Kill the false god!” an angry woman shouts.
Outside in the hallway, footsteps bang up the stairs and down the corridor. The door to my room crashes open.
Philia, her face bright pink, her eyes bugged, stands in the doorway. “Kai, it’s time to go.”
18
I hop out of bed. “What’s happening?”
How long have I been asleep? Waking up from my dream feels like bursting up from the depths of the coldest lake.
“You will not replace us!” a man shouts.
“Renrians eat babies!” a woman screams.
Neither asshole sounds like they’re outside. They sound close. Very close.
Philia shouts, “They got in!” She sees my bed and its rumpled sheets before looking back at me and frowning. “Were yousleeping?”
My cheeks burn. I don’t answer her question as I shove my feet back into my tight boots.
“That’s how they broke in,” Philia says. “Because you…you were asleep.”
I mutter, “Yeah,” and buckle my greaves around my calves. I throw a quick look at the young woman now judging me in the doorway.
She’s dressed in black breeches, boots, and a long-sleeve tunic. Traveling clothes. She carries a backpack on her shoulder as well as a golden bow and a quiver of arrows, a gift from the Renrians.
“Philia,” I say, “I don’t think you should come—”
“Kill the redhead!” a man screams.
“She’s unnatural,” a woman shouts.
Never mind.
Philia takes a deep whiff of air. “Oh, no.”
I sniff, too, and hurry over to look out the window. “What did these idiots set on fire?”
Down below, a mob wielding swords, pikes, and torches crowds the walkway in front of the Broken Hammer’s porch. That effigy of me is now fully engulfed in flames. No more budget burning.
“You were sleeping?” Philia asks again, her face patchy-red, her eyes bright with tears.
I stop in my step and hold out my arms. “I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up, and I feel like shit.” I sigh heavily, then rub my face, wincing at the sting of my peeling skin. I pull on my scabbard heavy with Justice and Fury and twirl Tempest around my fingers before slipping the dagger into my ankle sheath. My stomach growls as I check my armor once more—the dark gray is nearly invisible in this dim light. “Did I eat?” I ask Philia as I grab the pack holding theLibrum Esotericafrom the bed.
She pauses and thinks. Then: “No. Your plate is still on the table downstairs, untouched.”
That’s right. I came up to wash and—
“This is new.” Philia taps the handle of Elyn’s surrendered sword.“Ouch.”She snatches back her now-red and smoking fingers.
“Never touch the weapon of an immortal.” I wrap my hand around Philia’s fingers. Her injury tugs against my skin like a fish caught on a line. Once I heal her, I release her hand and nod at the bow on her back. “You sure about this?”
She nods as she gapes at her healthy fingers.
“The Lady isn’t real!” comes the shouting from outside.
“Maelstrom is hate!”
