Just a handful of seconds had passed, and four were dead on the dirt floor. Their killer wasn’t even breathing hard. She pointed her bloody blade at the other men and women at the bar, barking something at them Drayce didn’t have a hope of understanding, but it had a feel of “Who’s next?”
No one took her up on her challenge, so she shoved the blade into its sheath and stepped up to the bar. She slapped some coins on the counter, and the barkeep handed over a bottle. With a few low words, she poured the entire contents over the dead bodies and shattered the glass bottle on the ground. That actually got a shout of approval from the barflies.
Drayce’s heart was pounding in his chest. He had one hand on Caelan’s arm, ready to pull him out of there, while he held a pistol in the other.
Eno and the woman approached the table together. She was easily a foot shorter than Eno, but her shoulders were surprisingly broad, and her gait was relaxed and easy as if she hadn’t just walked into a place and slaughtered four people.
“Are you…Vale?” Rayne asked, the words seeming to be caught in his throat. At least Drayce wasn’t the only one struggling to process what had happened.
“Yep. Ready to get out of here?”
Caelan tipped his chin toward the dead still lying untouched on the ground. “The authorities. Should we wait? They attacked us first.”
The woman’s smooth brow wrinkled, and she stared at Caelan in complete confusion before looking over her shoulder at the corpses. “The authorities? For them?” Her head flew back on a wild laugh. “Nobody gets in trouble for murder in Zastrad. That’s called honoring the Dead God here.”
A chill dove straight into Drayce’s bones at her words. There was no penalty for murder in Zastrad. Judging by the cheering of the people at the bar, it was even celebrated. He’d never felt so very far from his home in his life, and he couldn’t wait to get out of this country.
More so, he couldn’t wait to get Caelan and his friends out of there alive.
FIVE
Caelan Talos
The silence in the car as they followed Vale on horseback was deafening. Life meant nothing to these people. They worshiped a dead god, the Dead God. How were they supposed to make it across this hostile land and to the godstone?
From an early age, his mother had drilled into his head that it was imperative to understand other kingdoms’ cultures and beliefs. Harmony was achieved in respecting differences and embracing similarities.
But how could he respect such a great difference? This huge disregard for life went against the very core of who Erya was. Erya was the home of the Goddess of Life, for fuck’s sake.
Eno’s and Rayne’s voices were murmuring softly over the rumble of the engine as they bumped and bounced over the rocky terrain, but he couldn’t get his brain to pay attention to their words. It felt as if this entire mission to meet with the Dead God had taken on a new, darker tone. What would it mean to Zastrians to raise their Dead God? How could it be a good thing to wake him? What if they—
There is no other way, Tula whispered across his thoughts. Her touch was normally warm and comforting, but it felt like there was a hidden edge to it now that left him clenching his teeth. My brother is not an easy one to deal with. I wouldn’t be sending you to him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
Is there even a chance that I’m going to survive this encounter with the Dead God?
There was no response from the goddess, and it was suffocating. What was the point of waking this god if there was a damn good chance he was going to end up dead? He couldn’t defeat the Empire if he was fucking dead.
“There has to be another way.”
“Another way for what?” Drayce asked.
Caelan stared at his friend, wondering how he knew what he’d been thinking, when he realized he’d spoken out loud. He sighed and shook his head. “Tula.”
Drayce nodded and patted his knee with one hand. It felt more disturbing that his companions didn’t even blink at his random outbursts any longer. They just accepted it as normal that their king talked to a god and goddess in his brain. No, he wasn’t potentially going mad at all.
They traveled for nearly half an hour, following steadily behind Vale until they finally reached a clearing with a small yurt of brown and green as if the intention was for it to blend completely into their surroundings. She dismounted the horse and motioned for Eno to pull the car over behind an outcropping of rocks.
Eno turned off the engine, but none of them were exactly hopping out of the car.