A Soul of Ash and Blood (Blood And Ash Series Book 5)
A Soul of Ash and Blood: Chapter 2

A chill reached the Rise, chasing away what remained of the late-season warmth that had lingered far into autumn. The hint of coming snow was in the night air.

That wasn’t the only thing.

I turned at the waist and propped a booted foot on the ledge, looking down at the ramshackle buildings in the shadow of the massive wall enclosing the cesspool of a city known as Masadonia. The homes were all drab shades of gray and brown, stained with dirt and smoke and stacked atop one another, leaving little room for the wagons to travel the streets, let alone enough space for the people to breathe anything but the stench of sewage and decay.

And death.

There was always death in the air near the Rise.

My lip curled in disgust as I scanned the rows and rows of homes in the Lower Ward. Lit by torches and a few sporadically placed streetlamps powered by oil instead of electricity, the packed buildings appeared one wind gust away from crumbling in on themselves. Clearly, Duke and Duchess Teerman, the Ascended who ruled Masadonia, believed only the wealthy deserved such luxuries as clean air and space, electricity, and running water.

Masadonia was one of the oldest cities in the kingdom, and I was sure it had once been beautiful when Atlantia ruled the entirety of the mortal realm—before the War of Two Kings, the Blood Crown, and the Rises were erected around cities and villages as prisons to keep out the consequences of the evil that lived within. Before my people retreated east of the Skotos Mountains for the greater good of the realm.

But no real good had come of it.

The Ascended, those who now ruled everything west of the Skotos, were expert revisionists, rewriting history by calling themselves the heroes and damning Atlantians as the villains. They’d managed to convince the mortals they were Blessed by the gods and installed themselves as rulers of what they now called the Kingdom of Solis.

A too-abrupt scream echoed from the shadows of the Lower Ward.

That evil didn’t find its way in. It now lived among the mortals.

My grip tightened on the hilt of the broadsword at my hip as I lifted my gaze to the twinkling lights of Radiant Row, seated at the base of Castle Teerman. Now, the only beauty to be found was beyond the heavily wooded Wisher’s Grove, where the elite of Masadonia lived in large manors on sprawling acres. Most were Ascended. Only a few were mortals who’d benefited from generational wealth. And they were likely aware of precisely what the Ascended were.

One would think the vamprys would take better care of their people, considering they would simply shrivel up and waste away without them. However, as a whole, the Ascended appeared to lack foresight as much as they did empathy. They treated their people like cattle, keeping them alive in shit conditions until it was time to be butchered.

“You never quite get used to the smells or the sounds.” The voice intruded on my thoughts. “Not unless you grew up in the Lower Ward.”

I turned my head to Pence. The blond-haired guard couldn’t be more than a year or two into his second decade of life. I doubted he’d make it much further if he continued on the Rise. Most of the guards didn’t. “Did you grow up down there?”

In the light of a nearby torch, Pence nodded as he stared at the homes lined up like uneven, jagged teeth. His answer came as no surprise. There wasn’t much opportunity in Solis unless one was born into wealth. You either worked as your parents did, barely scraping by, or you joined the Royal Army hoping to be one of the lucky fools to live long enough to move off the Rise and into something like a position in the Royal Guard.

Pence frowned as several shouts broke out, coming from an area near the Citadel, where coin was spent in gambling dens and houses of pleasure. Only the gods knew what was going on. A deal gone wrong? Senseless, unprovoked murder? The Ascended themselves? The possibilities were endless.

“How about you?” he asked.

“Grew up on a farm in the east.” The lie slipped easily from my lips, and it wasn’t just because I did, in fact, hail from the east—the Far East—but because I was as good at lying as I was at killing.

The crease between Pence’s brow deepened. “Heard you were from the capital.”

“I worked on the Rise in Carsodonia.” Another lie. “But I’m not from there.”

“Ah.” The skin between his eyes smoothed as he returned to stare at the Lower Ward and the plumes of smoke coming from chimneys.

I wasn’t at all surprised that he didn’t press harder about what I’d said. Most mortals rarely questioned anything. Generation after generation was groomed to simply accept what they were told. That was one thing I could thank the Ascended for. It made what I’d come to do much easier.

“Bet Carsodonia looks nothing like this,” Pence said, sounding wistful.

I almost laughed. The capital was just like Masadonia, though even more stratified and worse. But I squelched the sound that wanted to rise in humor. “The beaches along the Stroud Sea are…nice.”

A brief smile appeared on Pence’s face, making him seem even younger. “Never seen the sea before.”

He probably never would.

A gnawing pang radiated through my chest and stomach, reminding me that I needed to feed.

“My brother will, though,” he added with a smile. “Owen is a second son, you know.”

Anger replaced the ache, flooding my system, but I kept it in check as I turned my attention back to the Lower Ward. “He’s a Lord in Wait, then?”

“Yeah. He’s at the castle. Been there since he turned thirteen, learning to be a Lord.”

I smirked. “How does one learn to be a Lord?” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I imagine it’s all about which fork and spoon is the correct one to eat with. Fancy shit like that.” Pence let out a raspy laugh, reminding me that he’d only just recovered from one of the many sicknesses that ran rampant through the Citadel and the Lower Ward. “Probably bored out of his mind learning the histories and how to act right, not realizing how lucky he is.”

“Lucky?” I glanced at him.

“Fuck, yeah. All the second sons and daughters are.” Pence adjusted the hilt of his sword. “He’ll never have to worry about being up on the Rise or going out beyond it. He’s got it made, Hawke. He really does.”

I stared at the fool—no, not a fool. Pence may not be educated—none of the first sons or daughters were unless they were wealthy—but the man wasn’t a fool. He’d just been fed the same bullshit the Blood Crown doled out in spoonfuls. So, of course, he thought his brother was lucky to be given to the Royal Court upon his thirteenth birthday during the godsforsaken Rite—as all second sons and daughters were. They were raised at Court and then, at some point, received the Blessing of the gods. They were Ascended. But I supposed Owen was luckier than the third sons and daughters, those given over at infancy during the Rite to serve the gods in the various Temples throughout the kingdom.

I ground my molars. The faith the people had in the Ascended was strong, wasn’t it? In truth, the Lords and Ladies in Wait didn’t receive jack shit from the gods when they Ascended, and those babes weren’t being raised to serve the gods because the gods had been resting for centuries.

But most of the people of Solis didn’t know that, and if I were being fair, it wasn’t all that hard to understand how the Ascended had so many believing in them. If one only looked at the surface, you wouldn’t doubt the gods had Blessed the Ascended. Not when they appeared to have been gifted strength, longevity, wealth, and power that mortals could only dream of. However, nothing about the Ascended—the Blood Crown and all their Dukes and Duchesses and Ascended Lords and Ladies—was a blessing.

It was all a fucking waking nightmare.

An odd noise came from behind us, a low wail easily mistaken for the wind, but everyone on the Rise was trained to listen for that sound. The warning. We turned at once, facing the moonlight-drenched lands beyond the Rise.

I crossed to the other side of the wall and looked out over the barren lands. Clouds had gathered, blocking most of the moonlight, but my eyesight was far better than the others on the Rise and below, just outside the wall, where the horses whinnied nervously, I saw what that sound warned of. Beyond the row of torches placed about halfway out from the Rise, a thick mist gathered at the edges of the Blood Forest, a lone shadow in the mist.

Pence joined me, scanning the darkened land. He was paler now, but his shoulders were straight as he withdrew the bow strapped to his back. The guard was afraid, but that didn’t make him any less brave.

The Blood Crown didn’t deserve him or the men below, those who began riding forward. Some of them wouldn’t return.

Another low, keening cry echoed from the Blood Forest, and a second shadow appeared in the mist. Then another. The mist didn’t thicken or rise, though. There didn’t seem to be a horde, but three Craven could be dangerous enough.

“Fucking Atlantians,” Pence spat.

My head cut to him, and I had to stop myself from knocking his ass off the Rise—or laughing, considering he cursed those whose blood would be used to Ascend his brother when the time came since the gods weren’t Ascending anyone. The Blood Crown simply used Atlantian blood.

And the Craven had nothing to do with my people. They weren’t the product of our poisonous kiss as the mortals were led to believe. That was just more shit the Blood Crown used to cover up their misdeeds and make sure the people hated Atlantians. They were solely responsible for the creatures that slaughtered indiscriminately in their hunger for blood.

“I really hope my brother Ascends soon,” Pence said, swallowing. “He’ll be safer then, you know?”

Yeah, he would be safer.

He’d also be creating more Craven that could one day kill Pence.

“How old is your brother now?” I knew the Blood Crown didn’t typically Ascend the Lords and Ladies in Wait until they reached adulthood.

“Just turned sixteen.” Pence squinted. “Not sure if he’ll Ascend during the Maiden’s Ascension or if they’ll wait. But it’s coming up. That is if it actually happens.”

I stiffened, forcing my grip on my sword to relax.

The Maiden.

Breathing in deeply, I ignored the stench I could practically taste. She was the reason I was in this shithole of a city. Her Ascension was to happen within the year, and it should’ve been the largest one to take place since the end of the war some several hundred years ago.

Should’ve been the key phrase there. Because Pence was smart to question if the Ascension would happen.

It wouldn’t.

My voice was level as I asked, “What makes you think the Ascension won’t happen?”

“Seriously? You don’t think the Descenters will try something?” He sent me a sharp look as he lowered the bow. “They want to usurp the Crown. At the very least, cause trouble. Preventing the Maiden’s Ascension would be one way to do just that.”

“And why would the Maiden’s Ascension have that much impact on the Crown?” I angled my body toward his, doubting he could answer what I or any of my spies had yet to figure out.

His eyes narrowed. “Because the Maiden is Chosen by the gods,” he said with the reverence that often filled the voice of anyone who spoke about the Maiden and the confidence of every single motherfucker who spewed that bullshit. Except Pence’s words included a tone that said he thought me half-idiotic to even ask the question.

It was a good thing I stopped myself from shouting, “Why?” in his face. Why was this Maiden Chosen? The Blood Crown never elaborated beyond her Ascension ushering in a new era. No matter who we questioned or how many Ascended we interrogated, we never learned the reason beyond the belief or how she would be this…this harbinger of a new era.

“I’ve been hearing the Duke’s worried about the upcoming Rite,” Pence said after a moment, his slender face drawn. “I’m guessing there’ve been credible threats. Fear the Dark One will get the Descenters here riled up into doing something.”

The Duke had every right to be concerned about the upcoming Rite. One side of my lips twisted up as I turned from Pence, thinking the guard would likely piss himself if he knew who he stood beside and spoke to.

The so-called Dark One.

The Prince of a fallen kingdom the Blood Crown claimed was hellbent on murder and mayhem. Many believed that, but the false King and Queen hadn’t been able to convince everyone in Solis. The Descenters knew that the Kingdom of Atlantia hadn’t fallen. Instead, we’d thrived and rebuilt in the four centuries following the war, strengthening our armies.

If Atlantia invaded Solis, something many within Atlantia wanted, Solis would be taken. Thousands, if not millions, would die in the process. And that was exactly what would happen if I didn’t get off this fucking Rise and get my hands on the Maiden.

Because unbeknownst to the people of Solis, the Blood Crown had stolen someone very important to Atlantia. Not just their Prince but the heir to the throne. If he wasn’t freed, there would be war. And this time?

This time, there would be no retreat for the greater good of the people.

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