Breaking the Gloaming Read Online Free PDF Page A

never should have given Ramzi dominion over what happened below me.
    “Oh good, you do recognize me.” Mersault sat back against the wall and ran his hand through his filthy brown hair. “Sit, Tryst. Let’s talk about what we’ll do next.”
    I did not sit. “What we will do next?” I asked, almost amused by his confident tone. The fallen noble’s son may have saved me, but that did not mean I would be following his lead.
    “ We are the only ones sitting here,” he replied, “so yes, what we will do next.” There was a fanatical glare in his eyes. “You can kill me if you like, but even then, we would be doing something. You killing me, me dying, we would be doing it together, you see? Why not enjoy this moment of we ?” His questions were as hollow as his emaciated face.
    “How long have you been down here?” Part of me wanted to back away from him, to duck out the door on the floor and face the Gloaming alone. But another part of me prevailed—the part that was tired, unwilling to move, and unwilling to be alone again. I stayed where I was.
    “Longer than you, longer than life itself.” He stood and paced. “Long enough to learn the way of things, the meaning of things, or the lack of any meaning. Is there time in the Gloaming? It is like a purgatory of man’s worst, without the excitement of the fires of hell.”
    His head snapped toward me. “At least we can eat in purgatory. Let’s find some food.”  
    “That sounds like a fine plan,” I said. Maybe hunger was driving Mersault mad. I was starving.
    “More food has been falling lately. It is a little easier to avoid an empty belly.” He patted his bare, flat stomach. “Cain gathered quite a stash under your name. Now it’s his, and you’re gone, a shadow like me.” He stepped close and reached out as if to pat my shoulder in sympathy.
    “Sit down,” I said.  
    He pulled his hand back and eyed me curiously. He then began pacing again.  
    “What is the problem, Tryst? Are you still striving for something? You might as well give that up. What will you gain down here?” He turned to me with an unnerving stare.  
    “If you sit, I’ll sit.” He was bouncing from foot to foot.
    “ Sit. Now! ” I shouted, my composure slipping, my sword suddenly pointed at his face. He froze in place.  
    “So have you decided that you will kill me?” He looked along the length of the shining blade. “That is what we will do next? I might say, I had hoped for a better reason than my pacing, but so be it. Just do what you like, whatever you feel. That is as much freedom as you can find down here. Now I feel like sitting. See?”
    He shrugged and sat down. I lowered my sword and sat across from him. I struggled to regain my composure with his eyes dancing all around.
    “ We shall sit! Yes, let’s sit and chat. A fallen prince and a fallen scion. We make a good team, Tryst. I would almost say we were meant to be here together, if I had any reason to believe in fate and other such fancies.” He hugged his knees and rocked, his eyes looking into me or through me. “You know, we always had this in common: we are likeable fellows, but no one ever liked us. What a riddle! Do you have an answer for that?”
    “Enough babbling,” I responded calmly, hoping to settle the man’s nerves and mine. “Why did you speak out for me, to try to save me back there against Cain?”
    He looked at me differently, with a hint of sincerity. “We are alike, you and me. I lost my mother when I was young, too. I was always second in my father’s eyes, too. He would have chosen my cousin to lead our house after he died. Just like your own father wanted Andor to be the prince instead of you.”  
    He paused, his gaze distant and blank. No one had mentioned my father’s choice in a long time. It was a memory I had avoided—my father explaining to me, in his always-patient voice, that he supported Andor for the throne, without even mentioning my own eligibility. I had