And Night Descends (The Third Book of the Small Gods Series) Read Online Free PDF

like, had no windows. They stretched before him and behind; each block to his right and left looked the same. It would take a great amount of time to check them all—time he didn’t have. The men he’d escaped from would find him long before he finished searching.
    An ache formed at the bottom of Stirk’s gut, clawed up into his chest, brought nausea into his throat. It soon made its way to his head, causing it to throb and making him see his plan for vengeance dying before it started. The man responsible for his mother’s death couldn’t be found; he’d go on living while Bieta was no more.
    Stirk’s knees went watery and he stumbled forward a step, catching the edge of a crate with his hand to steady himself. The rage that had consumed him, tightening his muscles and knotting his jaw, melted way, leaving grief behind to wrap itself around him. It weighed on his shoulders, pushing on him until he crumpled and sank to the ground.
    He sat with his back against a crate, face buried in his arms. His body shook with sobs. As long ago as he remembered, he’d never been alone—not for long, at least. Bieta had always taken care for him, guided him, told him what to do. Many times he’d resented the way she treated him, as if she considered him a child trapped in the body of a man, but now he didn’t know how he’d live without her wisdom and guidance. Who’d feed him? Who’d comfort him and give him pleasure?
    Who would be his mother?
    Eyes closed tight, he pictured Elishbieta’s face smiling at him, her tongue prodding the space between her front teeth as it so often did. The vision of her calmed him, and the sobs faded. He snuffled snot back into his nose and wiped his face with his sleeve.
    “Mama,” he whispered.
    Her expression in his imagination changed. Her smile disappeared and her eyelids widened to a stare filled with fear. From out of nowhere, an axe sliced the air, and then her neck. His mother’s head flew up, tumbling end over end until it hit the ground with a dull thump, bounced once, and settled. Blood gushed out of her neck and her corpse leaned and toppled revealing the one-armed man standing behind her, laughing and brandishing the axe.
    Stirk’s eyes snapped open and his body spasmed once, a massive shudder shaking him as if a malevolent spirit had passed through him. He shook his head to clear the vision and wrapped his arms around himself to stop the shiver quaking him despite the hot day. The grisly apparition of his mother disappeared from his mind, but the laughing sword master remained, blood dripping from the edge of the axe blade.
    The big man’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes narrowed. How had it eluded him before?
    The prince was gone; he knew he wouldn’t find the man responsible for setting in motion the events leading to his mother’s execution. But Teryk wasn’t the only one on whom responsibility for her death should fall. There was also the soldier who’d wielded the axe, and the one who gave him the order to take her life.
    Stirk pushed himself to his feet, wiped his face on his sleeve. No more time for grief; there’d be no more whimpering and crying. He curled his hand into a fist and set his jaw, ready to undertake the work that lay ahead.
    Trenan and Dansil must die.

IV Horace—Floatin’
    Blue sky.
    It hung o’er ol’ Horace, stretchin’ up and up and up with no more but it for him to see. A gull flew by once, its gray wings flappin’; considerin’ the luck he were havin’, he more’n half expected the damned thing to shit in his eye, but it didn’t.
    Cold sea water washed around him, sometimes splashin’ up onto his cheeks or into his mouth. He didn’t swallow any because he couldn’t swallow any more’n he might’ve blinked or stroked his way to the shore. Limbs, mouth, eyelids, all refused to move. Eventually the salty water spilled back outta his mouth and o’er his chin to rejoin the rest o’ the ocean.
    After a short while, he paid