Shortly before Death infiltrated Keep Blacksteel, Harren and Godwin were in a race to see who’d find their younger brother first. Minutes after Harren had left his chambers, Zishang and the other guards had seized Mara from his bed and declared her banished from Vatanil, awaiting further punishment alongside Harren once both he’d been found. The prince was painfully unaware of his wife’s taking, but his loss was worth it—in a courtyard, sitting atop the roof, Harren saw Stroke dangling his feet over the edge and relaxing in the storm’s cold.

  “Little brother!” he yelled. Stroke couldn’t hear him. “Stroke! Come down here, I need to tell you something.” He picked up a rock and launched it with the power of the God Arm. It zipped by Stroke, nearly taking off his head, gaining the young prince’s attention. “Come down! Or I’ll throw another rock.”

  Stroke slid down the roof, climbing down one ledge-drop at a time. Harren offered a hug, but Stroke knew his brother far too well to get that close to him.

  “What do you want?” he asked Harren. “Have you come to give me your God Arm?”

  Harren cackled in response. “Why in the name of the gods do you think I’d give you a God Arm, you arrogant little twat.”

  “You don’t know the news. You came to find me just to taunt me. Do me a favour and blink, I’m done with you.”

  Harren’s finger pointed behind his brother. “Your gift won’t work here. The dog watches.”

  Stroke saw Killian and then sighed. “Of course. Wherever you go, he follows. Make your insults quick. “Bianca returns soon with Runaya. You’ll be giving me that God Arm by the end of the storm so I can destroy the Kans. The war will be short and bloody, I can promise you that much.”

  Harren broke into hysterical laugher. He held his stomach and nearly fell over from his wobbles. “You think Bianca brings your stupid whore back to Vatanil?”

  “I said she travels with Runaya, not Mara,” Stroke smirked. “I doubt we’ll see each again after this.” He offered a handshake to his brother, making sure to offer it to his intact arm. “Let’s say farewell why we’re here, avoid each other for the rest of the storm and until I’ve left for Naveen. You can give the God Arm to Godwin, he’ll make sure it gets to me. We can both be free from each other.”

  “Fuck your freedom.” Harren slapped the hand away. “You have no idea what I did, do you?”

  “Let me guess—you left a bucket of your own shit as a gift in her chambers, again.”

  Harren held the truth on his tongue like an addictive drug. His heartbeat got so much faster, his hands tightening into fists to keep his excitement hidden. He smiled with cruelty, laughing hard, then flattened his expression into a blank hatred.

  “I killed her,” he said drily, staring at Stroke with soulless eyes. Harren kept his jaw hung open after the admission, running his tongue across his upper teeth. “If Bianca truly does travel with the whore… it’s a corpse.”

  “You’ve never been funny,” Stroke laughed. “You haven’t left Vatanil for the entirety of her disappearance. I’ve kept an eye on you for that exact reason. Trying to frighten me before I finally see her again won’t work.”

  “I didn’t have to do it myself,” Harren said through heavy breaths. “She was at Caron. She died at Caron. I ordered it.” He took a step closer and held onto Stroke’s shoulder, still laughing. “It was Godwin who approved the order,” he lied, wheezing, struggling to speak through joyful tears. “It was us! We killed your whore! You dumb cunt; you fucking idiot; you were never going to see her again! We could never allow you to marry that slut!”

  Stroke calmly pushed Harren away. “You’re not funny,” he repeated. “Even if you spoke an ounce of truth, the Voiceless One would’ve shown me through a vision.”

  “The gods hate you!” Harren yelled. “The dog got a letter from the cambions and brought it to me—not the king, to me! They put it right on his desk, a place and a time for a death ritual in Caron… I almost shit myself when I read the letter. The dog was going to Caron anyway, something about a dragon.” Harren finally fell over from his lightheadedness. “Godwin gave the order!” he lied again. “I ate twenty pomegranates in four hours in anticipation… when I heard they pumped that little white filling arrow, I screamed so hard I thought you’d hear me through the Sentinels! Oh, it was so hard trying to pretend I had no clue of anything! Then—oh gods—do you want to know what the dog did? He stomped her head until it popped like a melon, then flattened her skull like a pancake! And guess what? The whore was already naked. He finished all over her tits! Twice! What a whore she is, right? Pleasuring men even in death.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Ask the dog! He dumped her north of the city. She belongs to the maggots now.” Harren found his footing. “Go on. Cry. You’re not getting a God Arm. I hate you, always have. Godwin hates you.”

  Stroke felt a flurry of emotions. Upon seeing Killian’s smirk, he struck Harren with a kick to his knee, making him fall over in another fit of laughter. He grabbed one of many belts wrapped around his brother’s chest and punched Harren twice in the nose.

  “Go on,” Harren challenged. “Your hits are weak. Hit me harder and faster. Give me a reason to kill you. Godwin already wants you dead. He told me.”

  “You’re lying to me!” Stroke begged. “Gods, Harren, tell me you didn’t? Say this is your final joke to torment me.”

  “The only joke here is you,” he hissed. “Runaya—”

  “Don’t you dare say her name!” He struck Harren again. “You don’t deserve to have her name on your lips! She is worth millions of that whore your married.”

  “Was worth,” he corrected smugly. “Doesn’t matter what you claim. Killian fucked what was left of her. She’s innocent no longer, ain’t that right, dog?”

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  “Yes, my prince,” Killian said. “Just as you commanded.”

  Stroke closed the gap between their faces, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes welling with tears. He gritted his teeth, raising his fist for another strike, then let it fall limp onto the stone floor. “You’re lying,” he whimpered. “No. No. You’re lying. Bianca has her. Things are going to be okay. I’m going to be free.”

  “You will never be free,” Harren whispered. “We own you.”

  “I wish you were both dead,” he cried. “You and Godwin have crossed a line. I would never do this to you!” He stood angrily, face red from sadness. “I’ll fucking rip you apart! All I’ve ever wanted was her! I’ll kill you both!”

  “Sounds a little treasonous,” Harren giggled. “What would you say to that, dog! Sounds like treason, don’t you think?”

  “We were waiting!” Stroke screamed. “Waiting for marriage. She was the furthest from a whore one could get!”

  “I heard those campions were deep in her guts in more than one way. You don’t want a maiden ruined by demons.”

  Stroke screamed in agony, gripping the sides of his own head. He bashed his own skull, spinning in the rain and falling to his knees from the dizziness. He yelled Runaya’s name, cursing the Voiceless One through shrieks and tears.

  “Kill him, dog,” Harren ordered. “Make it slow.”

  “Yes, my prince,” Killian said, holding his two-handed sword in a single-handed grip. “Slow it shall be.”

  “This city is my Hell!” Stroke screamed. “I’ll kill every single one of you! Every last one!”

  A strike of lightning flashed above them. Harren and Killian blinked at the same time. The young prince was gone when both opened their eyes.

  “Always dramatic.” Harren cracked his knuckles. “We’ll find him. His gift will confine him to the castle. There will be too many people watching for him to go to the streets… oh, what the fuck am I looking at?”

  “My prince?” Killian asked, confused.

  “Intruders in my brother’s chambers,” Harren snickered. “Let’s go, dog. They have women. Seeing my little brother cry has made me hard as a rock. I want to fuck something.”

  ————————————————————————

  Zishang was welcomed into the Leaky Knight by cheerful men and maidens, all drinking to their heart’s delight and singing songs of legendary warriors of Valan. Their tune specifically this time was Godlena Valan, the queen who lived during the Battle of Human Hell. She was a fierce fighter, and her song comes from her march north where she prevented Kan Barro from invading Dastane and ending more lives than had already been claimed from the swift war.

  “Zi! Zi!” Bollo yelled. “If it ain’t the cap’n himself. Come and sit with this lonely old sod.” He pulled up a stool to a table filled with empty tankards; all drank by him. “Don’t look so bloody glum all the time. Get your arse in the stool, I’ll have you drinkin’ ‘til yer pukin’ up your dinner!”

  Zishang indulged in drinking to drown his regrets. He ordered beer and wine, swigging them down in seconds and placing a fresh order immediately after.

  “Woah cap’n, you’ve gotta slow down there,” Bollo said. “Just because Bianca’s Bastards ain’t been called to battle don’t mean we can just get drunk that fast.”

  “You’re always drunk,” Zishang slurred. “Why can’t it be me for a change?”

  “I fight better when I’m a little tipsy! I can’t use my gifts when I’ve sobered up for more than a few days. Look at these gauntlets, they’re waitin’ for some skulls to smack against a wall.”

  “We don’t live in Arcyril anymore, Bollo,” Zishang said. “There is no need for vigilantes like us. The Sentinels have that covered.”

  “Bloody bollocks,” he roared. “I’ll get a good fight in before my age takes me, or I’ll make sure I die with a full belly so you shitters have to see me shit myself one last time.” He patted Zishang on both shoulders with rough hands, tousling his hair and giving him a playful slap on his chest. “C’mon sonny, the three of you are like my own children now. Quinn and Fiasco are off kissing and plotting, what’s the honourable one got planned, ay?”

  Honourable, Zishang thought. I don’t even know what that word means anymore. Bianca has always held me in a high regard; she would never trust me again if she knew the things I’ve done. “I wouldn’t ruin your drinking. My recent tales hold no goodness.”

  “I’ve heard worse,” Bollo said. “We all know about Quinn’s urges that he hides from Bianca and the king. We’ve all got a dark blotch in our souls—I’ll never tell you lads what happened in the donkey stables of Lakevalor! That was messy.”

  “I plan to give my weapon to Quinn. I am not worthy of the ancestral weapon of Corins. I will travel to the mountains and live out my days in shame.”

  “Now hold on lad, what did you do?”

  “Terrible things.” He brought his voice to a whisper. “Princess Runaya is dead, and I’ve kept that secret for a long time at an order I shouldn’t have followed. I betrayed Bianca’s trust. I betrayed my friends, I betrayed Runaya’s trust in me. I was meant to keep every person in this city save. I failed her.”

  “Lad…”

  “That’s not all,” he interrupted. “The king has ordered for Mara and Harren to be exiled from the city. He’s ordered Harren to return the God Arm. I was ordered to stand by the side of the king while he gave judgement, but I couldn’t—I could only think to come here. There are prisoners in the godsteel cell, ones that weren’t guilty to begin with… except for a few mishaps on their journey, it seems. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  Bollo was upset at the news of Runaya. He put on a joyful tone, one clearly forced. “Gah, bollocks to yer damned feelings lad. I’ve known ye since ye were a wee little shitbag sharting your undies twice a day. Your mother almost made you call me Uncle Bollo. Yer a good lad, always have been. Here, drink some more wine an’ it’ll all be fine. I’m sure that little twit-prince’ll hand over the bloody God Arm without a fuss.”

  Zishang laughed through his nostrils. “I always wanted to talk like you when I was younger.”

  “You ain’t wanna talk like me lad. I try to talk proper sometimes an’ it sounds like I’m a squawkin’ crow. Blame my pa, he’s the only reason I speak like a bloody Roshishian.”

  “You’re a kind man, Bollo,” Zishang whispered. “Thank you.”

  “Now stay here,” he ordered. “I’m gon’ go up that bloody tower to fetch Quinn and Fiasco. We’ll all have a drink together see if we can get a smile back on your face.”

  Bollo swung the tavern door open to screams and rushing guards. The Sentinels were burning red across the city, the guards manning the battlements and aiming their bows upwards.

  “By the bloody gods,” Bollo shouted. “Dragons!”

  Above the city, the shadows of four dragons could be seen in the clouds of darkness. Their roars broke through the thunder.

  Zishang refused to pick up his weapon. He kept his head on the table, loathing his actions further.

  “The Sentinels shall ward them away if they get close!” one of the Valan guards shouted. “Return to your duties and ignore them! Put your faith in the Sentinels! If they fly low, we will be safe.”