Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Yes, yes, you’re surprised to see us. Now get off the street and get in here.” She waves us into the shadowed interior of the house. Things are piled high across almost every available space, with the exception of a pathway someone made through the middle of it all.
I ignore my sudden urge to put as much distance between us as absolutely possible and instead follow Bowen and Evelyn into the darkness.
There’s one additional person waiting for us inside. Dia hasn’t changed much since I saw her last; she’s still a small old woman with arresting energy.
Bowen pulls her into a thorough but gentle hug. She returns it with no small amount of strength. “Bowen, my boy, it’s good to see you.” She reaches up to take him by the shoulders—he has to bend down to allow it—and holds him back so she can search his face. “You look well. The rebellion sits nicely upon your shoulders.”
Bowen, bless his heart, actually seems surprised. Even in the dim light, I can see his sudden blush. “You know about that?”
“The weeks since we last spoke have been incredibly…enlightening.” Her wrinkled face goes sober, the smile fading away. “It was a different time, sailing under Ezra. Even if we couldn’t control what the rest of the Cŵn Annwn did, at least on our ship there was a code of honor. I’d like to think we did more good than harm.” She glances at Siobhan and lets her hands drop from his shoulders. “But less harm is not no harm. There’s penance to be paid.”
Oh gods, not another one.
Bowen isn’t a bad man, but he was thoroughly consumed with the mission of the Cŵn Annwn up until only a few months ago. Evelyn was the one to snap him out of it, to make him question things that he’d always taken as truth, and who finally enlightened him on exactly what the Cŵn Annwn are. Since then, he’s been intent on rectifying the harm that he unwittingly committed. Obviously it’s not as simple as bringing the murdered monsters back to life, and his code of honor has become something he speaks about periodically, and it makes me roll my eyes so hard it’s a wonder I don’t pass out.
Honor is a fallacy. I recognize that having a code is valuable—I have one myself. But the idea that there may be a single unifying set of rules on what honor is and isn’t? It’s foolish. Naive, even. There are more cultures in this realm and all the others than I could possibly begin to count. Cultures with different values and systems and people. The idea of “honor” allowed the Cŵn Annwn to use their help to enable a massive overreach of power. They kill monsters and save the people of Threshold from harm. What is that if not honorable?
The answer to that question depends heavily on whether or not they consider you a monster.
But Bowen will never be someone who embraces shades of gray when it comes to morality. Apparently Dia won’t, either. That shouldn’t have surprised me; he views her as a stand-in mother. Or grandmother, considering her age. Of course he picked up his viewpoints from somewhere. She and the last captain of the Crimson Hag raised him from his early teen years when they found him floating in the waters of Threshold. Naturally, he imprinted on them.
Bowen takes her hands in his larger ones and stares down at her intently. “You’re more than welcome on the Audacity.” I don’t correct him, but I do grit my teeth as he continues. “But we didn’t just come for that. We have some questions for you. You’re the only person I could think of who might have the answers.”
“If I have the answers, they’re yours.” She squeezes his hands and takes a step back, nearly knocking over a stack of what appear to be hats. I watch with bemusement as she picks up a pile of clothing and dumps it on the floor, sinks down onto the revealed rickety chair, and proceeds to start the process of rolling a blunt.
Bowen looks at me, and I’m only too happy to take the lead. I open my mouth, but Siobhan gets there first. Of course she does. The fact that she’s held her silence for this long is no small miracle. She glares at me and steps forward. “We have a question about an item held in Lyari.”
Bastian picks up the conversational thread without missing a beat, excitement lacing his voice. “There’s a massive horn in Lyari. It’s kept beneath the meeting chambers of the Council, locked up with the other specialized texts in the library. We think it has some connection to the originals.”
Dia’s silver brows rise. “You came all this way to ask me about a horn in Lyari?”